


far side of the moon

by recklessiris



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Magic, Magic AU, Paranormal, Werewolf AU, Witch AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2018-12-08 01:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11636202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recklessiris/pseuds/recklessiris
Summary: Lovino made a deal with Antonio to save his brother's life, and is now suffering for it. Antonio is desperately trying to hold onto the  belief that all magic is evil, even while the person he cares most about happens to be a witch.





	1. one

Lovino watched the sunset dazedly, the warm summer air gradually turning cooler as the light faded away. Lightening bugs began emerging from wherever they hid out during the day and began blinking, creating competition with the slowly appearing stars. Loving knew that if he sat still enough one of the insects might decide to momentarily land on him, and eventually, one did. He focused in on the firefly, his eyes following as it crawled up his forearm and took off, gone as soon as it had arrived.

 

He thought about how the bug might've disgusted him a few months ago, but he had spent nearly a year on this farm and had grown used to most of the creepy crawlies that came with it. He figured he had dealt with things much more gruesome before he life had gotten yanked right out from under him. 

 

He looked up at the sky again, confirming his suspicions that tonight was a full moon. There was no phase calendar in the house and Lovino hadn't been keeping very good track over the past few days, but he had woken up feeling strange. The magic in his veins made his fingers twitch at the sight of the moon. He was most powerful during this time, but his power was slowly dying, restrained by the invisible sigils painted all over the property and by his own will. He had made an agreement, after all, and if it kept his brother safe he intended to honor it. Even if it did kill him in the long run.

 

He hoped Ludwig was doing what he promised; protecting Feliciano. Before Lovino had left they would both help take care of Feliciano when he turned, but now the German was the only one left who knew how to handle him. Lovino hadn’t seen anything on the news like HUGE WOLF ATTACKS TOWN AND KILLS DOZENS OF INNOCENTS lately, so he supposed Ludwig must be doing a decent job. That, or a hunter had found him and Feliciano and killed them.

 

Just the thought of it made Lovino’s heart ache and his power surge, because his sole responsibility ever since their grandfather disappeared had been protecting Feliciano. Hell, he was on this farm to protect Feliciano, and he was going to be pissed if his little brother was dead and this was all for nothing. 

 

He heard unintentionally quiet footsteps approaching him from behind, and Lovino inwardly cursed, thinking about how much he didn't want to talk right now, especially because of the pounding headache he had due to restraining his magic.

 

It didn't matter, Antonio was not telepathic and did not heed his mental messages, sitting down in the grass next to Lovino.

 

“It’s late.” Antonio said, false-conversationally.

 

“Hn.” Lovino replied.

 

“So, um,” Antonio said, picking at the blades of grass in front of his crossed legs, “I think I figured out why you were all grumpy today.”

 

Lovino wanted to say something about how he was always grumpy here, because this place made him grumpy and he wasn't the most positive person to begin with. Instead, he shot Antonio a sideways glance as if to say, “ _go on_.”

 

“I know that the full moon makes you more powerful, and that not being able to use your power is…annoying.”

 

_No shit._

 

“And not being able to see your brother on top of that only makes it harder.”

 

_Really?_

 

“But I’ve been reading up on some stuff and I think that if you just stay here a little while longer, your magic will die from being suppressed for so long. I was thinking that after that you could leave, because I don’t think it’ll come back.” Antonio explained.

 

Here was the problem with Antonio, from Lovino’s point of view. He genuinely thought that what he was telling him was good news, because Antonio believed that Lovino’s magic was a poison, an evil. He thought that he was doing the right thing, keeping Loving here and suppressing his magic. He thought he was doing the world, and Lovino, good. 

 

Even the kindest hunters are blinded by their morals.

 

But there was only so much of Antonio’s shit Lovino could take today.

 

“That’s great, Antonio. Fucking fantastic.” Lovino snapped and then promptly got up, storming his way towards the house. He knew it would be impossible to sleep tonight due to his magic screaming in his ear _USE ME_ and his anxiety from his brother, but he just needed to be away from Antonio.

 

He heard the Spaniard scramble to his feet behind him.

 

“Lov-Lovino! What’s wrong?”

 

Lovino stopped dead in his tracks and turned on his heel, giving Antonio the glare that always made him freeze up. It worked.

 

“Has it ever occurred to you,” Loving began quietly, “That maybe, just maybe, I _like_ my magic? That I _don’t_ want to get rid of it? That it fucking _hurts_ when I can’t use it, which is all the goddamn time nowadays.” 

 

“Lovino, you’re only saying that because your magic is manipulating you, you don’t know-“

 

“I don’t give a _fuck_ if it is manipulating me! How would you like it if I stabbed your eyes out and then said ‘ _Antonio, your eyesight is poisonous, it’s controlling you!’_ ? Would you fucking enjoy that?”

 

“That is completely different-“

 

“And more than that, you took my _family_ away from me, which is the most important goddamn thing in this world to me. Do you have any clue how hard it is to be separated from Feliciano like this? Do you have any idea what this is doing to me?”

 

Antonio paused, staring at him, unsure. He was always unsure what to do with Lovino’s rage.

 

Finally, he said, “You made the decision to have your magic suppressed and your family distanced.”

 

Lovino’s anger melted away and instead he got that disgusted feeling he always did when Antonio said something really shitty and reminded Lovino exactly who he was.

 

“Don’t act like you gave me any other choice.” Lovino whispered, feeling tears prick the back of his eyes. He turned around because he would not give Antonio the satisfaction of seeing him cry and continued his walk back to the house. He heard Antonio call after him, exasperated, but he didn't follow Lovino. 

 

The walk to the house was long, but still too short to quell Lovino’s frustration. He slammed the front door open and shut, storming up the stairs into his room and and collapsing onto his bed, breaking down into tears.

 

He missed his brother. He missed his grandfather. He missed his magic. Hell, he missed Ludwig. He missed everything about his life before it was this. 

 

He missed what Antonio used to be, and he hated himself for wanting that back. 

 

His head pounded, and his heart ached, but eventually Lovino was lulled to sleep by the monotonous sound of his ceiling fan and his sobbing. 

 

~

 

_Lovino was kneeling on top of a pile of wood, tied to a stake, watching in disbelief as Antonio refused to make eye contact with him and continued to pour gasoline all around the stake. He tried to wiggle his wrists out of the ropes that bound them, but it was useless, Antonio knew his knots. His magic was also incapacitated by a piece of leather tied around his throat, etched with runes Lovino did not recognize._

 

_Feliciano was chained to a pole in the ground, silver cuffs keeping him from transforming and causing what Lovino could only imagine was immense irritation to his wrists. He was screaming,sobbing, cursing at Antonio as he watched him prepare for the burning. Lovino barely even heard it, he was so shell shocked._

 

_Ludwig laid sprawled on the ground, knocked out by some drugs Antonio had dosed him with. It was clear that Antonio had no intention of killing him, but he knew that the German would be a problem if he was conscious._

 

_Lovino felt the pain of being betrayed clench at his heart, the sharp ache strong enough to fight the that haze of his confusion. Antonio had pretended to love Lovino for eight months, just to get them all exactly where he wanted them. He had been a hunter all along, organizing a complicated kill. He never cared about Lovino, never wanted a future with him. Antonio had always known were this was going to end up: with Lovino and Feliciano dead. And they had all played right into his trap._

 

_Antonio sat down the can of gasoline and paused, one of his hands in his back pocket. Lovino suspected there was a book of matches there and watched him, feeling his heart rate speed up. This was it. This was the end. He was going to die a horrible death, suffocating on smoke and feeling his skin melt off his bones. What a way to go._

 

_Feliciano’s screaming was suddenly cut short when Antonio turned around and pressed the barrel of a pistol to the center of his forehead. Lovino knew there had to be silver bullets in that gun, each one designed to kill those like Feliciano._

 

_Lovino was the oldest, he was supposed to protect Feliciano, he was supposed to die first. He felt panic, harsh and jagged arise in his heart and before he knew it, words were flowing out of his mouth._

 

_“Let me make a deal!” He screamed at Antonio, pulling at his bonds._

 

_Antonio spun around to face him, surprise written all over his face._

 

_Lovino felt tears on his cheeks. “I’ll give you anything you want,” He said, his voice shaking, “Just let my brother go, and I’ll do anything.”_

 

_Antonio stopped, considered. The gun was still clutched in his hand, filled with Feliciano’s death. Lovino saw his brother shaking his head in horror to what Lovino was offering up in exchange for his life. Lovino’s power was strong, and in the wrong hands, extremely destructive._

 

_“Lovino..I-I cant-“_

 

_“Please,” Lovino begged, interrupting Antonio._

 

_The Spaniard took another moment, and then looked up at Lovino. “Anything?” He asked suspiciously._

 

_“Anything.” Lovino whispered back, sealing his fate._

 

~

 

Lovino awoke suddenly, startled by his dream. It had been a perfect memory of what had happened in that meadow in June. It had been a reoccurring nightmare ever since he had arrived on the farm, a reminder of just why he was here in the first place. He was never able to get any sleep for the rest of the night after he had it. 

 

Knowing this, he slid out of bed and pulled a chair over to the window, which he cracked open. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon and splashes of orange and pink decorated the quickly brightening starry sky. Lovino sat down and picked up his pack of cigarettes and lighter which were always resting on the windowsill. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, inhaling and exhaling smoke, blowing it out the window. 

 

His magic was slightly less annoying since the full moon had passed, but it still made his nerves twinge with dull pain. Sadly, modern medicine did not cure aches of the otherworldly and miraculous kind. The nicotine was more of a distraction than anything.

 

He supposed Feliciano would just be getting home with Ludwig after a night in the woods. The German didn't have to worry about getting hurt, Feliciano loved him and therefore he was part of the “pack” even though he was human. He could easily follow Feliciano from a safe distance and keep him from devouring campers. Even when he was a werewolf, he would usually listen to Ludwig, and on the off chance that he didn’t, Ludwig always had a full syringes of liquid silver on him during the full moons to act as tranquilizers. 

 

He smiled to himself slightly, remembering how tired Feliciano always was after a full moon. His brother had always liked to laze around, but he was especially tired after hunts. Lovino would be exhausted too, after a night of creating charms, casting spells, and making magical remedies for his clients while his power was at its peak under the full moon. They’d spend the whole day napping and enjoying each other’s company, there was always a period of calm after a hunt, a sense of safety. If Feliciano hadn't been killed by a hunter or if he hadn’t killed a human, then they thought that they were still living in secrecy, in their own little happy world. 

 

If only Lovino could’ve let it be like that, if he would've just been happy living with his brother and Ludwig. Instead he grew envious of Feliciano and Ludwig’s love for each other, longing for that kind of connection with someone. It started out as just a slight tugging at his heart, a bitter taste in his mouth. He could ignore it. He could be alone.

 

But then he met a man at a farmer’s market with tanned skin and emerald eyes that glittered like they actually were precious stones. Antonio sold the some of the herbs Lovino required for his witchcraft, and over a summer, they had developed a relationship. If only he had known that Antonio was _hunting_ him, that he had spent so much time and effort pretending to love Lovino just to try to kill him.

 

By the time Lovino saw the scars all over Antonio’s body, it was too late. Lovino loved him, totally, unconditionally, completely. He told himself that farms boys got scars, that was what happened when they were young and careless and stupid. He didn't ask about them. He didn't want to know.

 

The truth was that Lovino had brought a killer into his bed, his heart, his _family_. He endangered his brother in an attempt to have a life with Antonio. He had been betrayed, yes, but he also should've been more careful, more watchful. He should've reminded himself that everyone could be a threat. He should’ve ran in the other direction when Antonio smiled at him, because really, who could've loved _Lovino_?

 

It was almost comical that he thought he could had a romantic future with someone. All he had ever had was family, and after his parents died, and his grandfather and youngest brother left, all there was left was Feliciano. The thought that he had almost been killed because of Lovino’s foolishness was almost too much to bear. If Antonio hadn't taken the deal, if Lovino had to watch that bullet enter Feliciano’s brain, Antonio wouldn't of had to worry about lighting the fire underneath him. Lovino would've already been dead, his heart would've given out. 

 

After about an hour of watching the sunrise and smoking, Lovino heard movement inside the house and concluded that Antonio had woken up and was preparing for his day. He always was up so early, and Lovino never heard an alarm go off. It was as if the sunlight gently shook him awake every morning and coerced him out of bed.

 

Antonio’s door opened and he padded gently down the hallway, his footsteps stopping in front of Lovino’s room. When Lovino had first moved into the farm house, Antonio told him he could choose any of the bedrooms upstairs. Because he was bitter and angry and disgusted with Antonio, he chose the room furthest away from that of his former lover’s. 

 

He still didn't regret it, not even when thunderstorms rocked the house and Lovino was forced to remember the night his parents were killed. What used to make Lovino crave Antonio’s embrace now made him shrink away from it. He had found an inner strength, rediscovered his talent of surviving on his own. 

 

Antonio had been standing outside his room for a few seconds before he finally knocked, like he was deciding whether he was going to actually do it or not. Lovino didn't answer, hoping he would go away, but then the door creaked open and Antonio’s head peeked inside his room. 

 

“Oh,” Antonio said, a little surprised, “You’re awake.”

 

“I had a bad dream.” Lovino shrugged, but his voice was callous enough to indicate the subject of the nightmare. 

 

Antonio seemed to slightly deflate, as if he thought Lovino would actually be in an optimistic mood at such an early hour.

 

“Well, um.” Antonio murmured, “I’ll have breakfast ready in a little bit.”

 

“ _Mhm_.” Lovino replied, turning his attention back to his window.

 

He heard Antonio sigh and then pull the door almost, but not quite, closed, which drove Lovino absolutely fucking _crazy_ and he was pretty sure Antonio knew that. However, due to his exhaustion, Lovino did not yell at Antonio to close the _goddamn_ door with unbridled rage or get up and push it closed himself. Rather, he just rolled his eyes at the idiot he was living with and tried to calm his ire by watching the birds outside. 

 

He was pleased to see some robins flitting around in the birdbath he had refilled yesterday before a flash of black and white darting across the yard caught his eyes. Antonio’s border collie, Estrella (who actually liked Lovino a lot better because he gave her table scraps) was chasing a rabbit across the yard with no actual intention to catch it. Lovino whistled out the window to give the poor thing a break. 

 

Estrella immediately halted her rabbit-torment in favor of perking up to Lovino’s whistle, her head tilting to the side in that way that reminded Lovino that there was one good thing about living here. Once she located Lovino in the upstairs window, she sprinting towards the house only to come to a sudden stop below his window and whine pitifully. 

 

Lovino sighed and stood up, figuring that was his signal to officially get up. He pulled of a pair or black jeans and a t shirt just as dark. Antonio had gently suggested on several occasions, even before they split up, that Lovino could do for some color in his wardrobe. Lovino would always reply that Antonio was about the last person he’d be taking fashion advice from.

 

He padded down the stairs and into the kitchen where he could smell acceptable food being cooked. Antonio was an adequate cook, but Lovino knew he could do better. Estrella had moved onto begging for Lovino at the sliding door that led from the kitchen out onto the patio. Lovino gave her a small, toothless smile and slid open the door just enough to step outside.

 

The concrete was cool against his bare feet, not yet warmed by the sun. Estrella was bumping her head up against his hand, so Lovino indulged her and scratched her behind her ears, but found himself distracted. Normally, he’d have no problem giving the dog all his attention, but something had felt off since he set foot outside. Lovino stared out at the farm, fingers absently rubbing against Estrella’s fur as he tried to find out what was wrong with the picture in front of him. 

 

He couldn't seem to find anything out of the ordinary, seeing that the chickens were emerging from their coops and waiting to be fed. The small orchard of apple trees were all in order, and the herb garden hadn't been disturbed. Antonio’s prized tomato plants all looked to be in perfect condition, and Lovino was just about to blame his strange feeling on the full moon last night when he noticed something. Off in the distance, one top bars of the white wooden fence surrounding the farm was broken in half. Lovino figured that was what was making him uneasy. 

 

Antonio called for him, and Lovino returned inside the house, Estrella trailing behind him like a shadow. He sat down at the table at his usual spot where a plate of food and a mug of black coffee were waiting. Lovino cut off a piece of sausage and fed it to Estrella before Antonio sat down across from him a moment later.

 

“She’ll get fat if you keep feeding her like that.” Antonio chided gently. 

 

“You should let me cook then. She won’t get fat off my food.” Lovino replied, feeding Estrella another piece of meat.

 

“Yeah, right.” Antonio scoffed, taking a bite of eggs. Lovino had the suspicion that Antonio thought he would try to conduct a spell if he were to be given access to the kitchen.

 

“You don’t even have anything useful for magic in here and the sigils keep me from trying anyways.” Lovino argued.

 

“I’m sure you’re smart enough to find something in the garden, and even people who aren't witches are able to conjure if they only require physical materials. I could perform some spells if I wanted to.” Antonio said.

 

“I highly doubt that.” Lovino murmured, rolling his eyes. Antonio shot him a small, unamused smile to let him know he heard it.

 

They ate in silence for a while after that. This was how most of their days progressed, with Lovino tolerating Antonio fairly well in the morning before his anger for the Spaniard had grown to proportions Lovino was unable to ignore. Their fight the previous night had not been a strange occurrence or one exclusively delegated to full moons.

 

“So,” Antonio spoke, breaking the quiet, “I’m going to be gone tonight.”

 

A feeling of uneasiness spread over Lovino again. “Tonight?” He questioned, unaware that his voice had an edge of fear to it until the word had exited his mouth. Estrella crowded up against his leg as if she sensed his anxiety. 

 

“…Yes,” Antonio replied, looking at Lovino like he was a strange new creature. Usually, the Italian would be filled with joy when Antonio told him he was leaving. “Is that okay?”

 

Lovino suddenly looked down at the dog, wondering what in the hell was going on with him. “It’s fine,” He said quickly, “it’s fine.”

 

He thought about asking Antonio for one of his knives to defend himself, but then he’d probably think Lovino had actually lost his mind and send him to a mental ward. The farm was bad enough, so Lovino kept quiet. 

 

“Okay, well,” Antonio said, “I might not be coming home until morning.”

 

Lovino was about to exclaim “ _Morning?!”_ before he got ahold of himself and another feeling crept inside him and made him suspicious of Antonio’s plans.

 

“Are you going on a date?” Lovino questioned, his eyes narrowed. 

 

Antonio was silent, staring at the table as if he just noticed how interesting it was.

 

Lovino suddenly realized that jealousy was not a natural reaction to have when his ex-boyfriend, _who he didn't want anything to do with_ , was going on a date with someone else. He blamed it on the full moon last night. 

 

“Have fun.” He forced out, standing up from the table, Estrella still glued to his side.

 

“Lovi-“

 

“Get me some cigarettes on the way home.” Lovino interrupted, already halfway up the stairs, leaving Antonio alone in the kitchen.

 

~

 

Lovino spent his day circulating from inside and outside the house and deftly avoiding Antonio. He didn't want to address why the date made him feel possessive. He didn't want to talk about why he felt worried about being home alone tonight. 

 

Estrella was right at his side the entire day, which was a little strange, because even though she liked Lovino, she liked to run around too. Perhaps she was just feeding off his mood and trying to offer him comfort, but Lovino just found it odd that no matter how many rabbits ran across the yard, she stayed right next to him. 

 

He was sitting in his room, doing a rough sketch of thew dog when a pitiful little knock sounded at the door. Lovino pretended not to hear it and continued drawing the dog laying next to him.

 

“Lovino?” Antonio called softly a moment later, sounding like the world was coming down around him.

 

“What?” Lovino said flatly.

 

The door was pushed open and Antonio stepped inside the room, looking miserable. 

 

“Yeah?” Lovino asked, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. 

 

“Can you help me decide what to wear?” Antonio asked quietly.

 

“Jesus,” Lovino said, rolling his eyes and getting out of bed, Estrella following. “You are such a baby.”

 

“Please?” Antonio begged, using his puppy dog eyes. Lovino figured that he could get back to drawing sooner if he helped Antonio. He brushed past him as he walked out of the room and headed for Antonio’s waving for the Spaniard to follow him. Antonio still trudged behind him, but his eyes looked a little brighter. 

 

Which is how Lovino ended up spending the remainder of his evening digging through Antonio’s closet and wondering how someone could have such horrible taste. Because he hadn't had to interact with the Spaniard for the majority of the day, his Tolerance For Antonio was still high, but looking at his wardrobe choices was seriously testing Lovino’s mood.

 

Finally, he found something that both matched and looked acceptable for a date, and threw it at Antonio to try on. Antonio just sat there at the edge of his bed for a moment, as if he didn't even notice the clothes in in his lap. His eyes were fond as he gazed at Lovino, who suddenly realized his good humor was wavering. 

 

“I’ll be in my room, come show me before you leave.” Lovino said over his shoulder, Estrella trailing him as he walked out of the room.

 

Five minutes later, which Lovino knew meant that Antonio spent little to no time examining the outfit himself beforehand, Antonio was back in room asking for approval. 

 

“Looks good.” Lovino told him, glancing up from his sketchbook, even though he already knew he wouldn't have to. Red had always complimented Antonio’s skin tone.

 

There was silence in the room for a moment, Antonio stalling by the doorway. Lovino knew there was about to be A Talk, and he didn't know how much more socialization he could take after he just excavated Antonio’s closet. 

 

“Lovino,” Antonio started, staring at the floor, “Are you sure you’re okay with me being gone tonight?” 

 

The same feeling of dread as earlier washed over Lovino, and he fought the chill working down his spine. While literally every fiber of his soul was screaming at him _tell him to stay!!!! tell him to stay right now!!!_ his brain, which was becoming significantly more powerful these days, forced a different response out of him.

 

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” Lovino asked flatly, refusing to look up from his sketchbook.

 

“You just acted strange when I told you I’d be gone earlier. Is everything okay?” Antonio questioned.’

 

“I’m fine. It was probably just the full moon and my crazy evil witch powers making me act weird.” Lovino replied, his tone laced with bitterness.

 

“Lovino,” Antonio sighed, leaning heavily against the doorframe and closing his eyes. It was clear that he was not up for another fight. 

 

“Just go.” Lovino commanded, “Like I said earlier, have fun. Don’t forget my cigarettes.”

 

Antonio didn't really like the smoking, but he preferred it over magic, and they were trying to handle one “ _addiction”_ at a time here.

 

“Yeah,” Antonio said, his voice sounding tired, “Okay. I’ll be home…Later.”

 

_“Mhm_.” Lovino replied, his attention redirecting back to his drawing.

 

Antonio left the room, and fifteen minutes later, Lovino watched his taillights as he drove away from the farmhouse, fighting the uneasy sense in his body that something very bad was about to happen and cuddling up to Estrella for comfort. 


	2. two

Lovino was startled awake by the most god-awful sound that was in between a scream and a growl. Just as it started, it seemed to cut off, and Lovino would've thought that he was just having a bad dream if Estrella wasn't rigid as a board, curled up as close as she could be to his side. He gently ran his hand through her fur, trying to calm her while he himself felt terrified. The night was silent, the air still. 

 

Reluctantly, he extricated himself from his bed and crept over to his window, peering outside to see what could've made such a horrible noise. His eyes scanned the farm until they landed on the chicken coop and widened with horror.

 

There was blood and feathers everywhere. A few dead chickens were strewn about in front of the coop, but if the quiet was any sign to go by, the rest had also been killed. His brain was working overtime to come up with a logical explanation, his heart beating nearly out of his chest with the fear that this was not just a coyote that had snuck into the coop for a snack.

 

No matter what, he was defenseless and weaponless in his own bedroom, so he tiptoed out of his, Estrella whimpering softly as she followed him. Antonio’s bedroom would have at least some sort of weapons, and though Lovino didn't know what they were or where they were, he was sure he would feel more calm there. 

 

The door to Antonio’s room was cracked open, left that way from when he left for his date. Lovino gently pushed it open, begging it not to creak. He felt as if something, _someone_ , was near, and intended to do him harm. 

 

Just as he stepped over the threshold to the bedroom, a loud clatter emanated from outside, and Lovino quickened his step into the bedroom before ushering Estrella in, who was spooked by the noise. He shut and locked the door, though he had the suspicion that whatever was outside did not much care about weak, wooden barriers. 

 

The room was still a disaster from Lovino rifling through Antonio’s clothes, but at least he could be sure the hunter didn't keep any weapons in his closet. Instead he started going through Antonio’s dresser, his desk, looking for false bottoms to the drawers and guns taped to the bottom of tables. In the end, he came across two knives which weren't huge, but could definitely do some damage. 

 

Looking under the bed, Lovino found some ammo, but no gun. He found nothing in the bedside table and was starting to lose hope when he shoved Antonio’s pillow aside and a pistol was revealed. Lovino grabbed it, thanking God and every heavenly entity that he had found it before his eyes really settled on the gun and a shock ran through him.

 

There was no mistaking it, it was the same pistol as the one that Antonio pointed at Feliciano and almost killed him with. This gun had sealed Lovino’s fate. Shaking off his nerves, Lovino told himself he didn't have the luxury of using a weapon that hadn't been aimed between his brother’s eyes, these were desperate times. He checked the magazine and was glad to find it loaded, and that the ammo he found matched the bullets in the clip.

 

Just as he was standing from where he sat at the edge of the bed, another clatter sounded from outside, but this time, it coincided with vicious dizziness and a sharp ache in Lovino’s head. He staggered, feeling his trapped power surge as he fell on his hands and knees to the floor. The feeling soon passed, but Lovino was breathing heavily, staring at the floor and wondering what the _hell_ that was. 

 

He was brought back to the present by Estrella worriedly pushing her wet nose against his cheek. Lovino gave her a pat to reassure her he was okay before he stood up from the floor. 

 

He needed to get to the kitchen. It was closer to… _whatever_ was outside, but if that thing caught him upstairs, he’d be trapped. The kitchen was on the ground floor, which gave him multiple exit points to run to and more weapons. Even if the knives there weren't blessed with holy water or didn't have runes carved into their sides, they were still sharp. 

 

Taking his time, the pistol gripped in his hand, he crept down the hallway and the stairs, one of his hands pressed up against the wall if another dizzy spell occurred. One did, three-fourths of the way down the stairs and coinciding with the noises outside, and Lovino was thankful that he was able to catch himself. 

 

As soon as his toe his the wood flooring of the first floor, Lovino felt exposed and wondered if this was such a good idea after all. Reminding himself that he used to do things like this and much scarier than this before he came to the farm, he forced himself to sneak into the kitchen. 

 

The whole house was dark, and Lovino knew that made him a harder target to spot, but it also made the trespasser difficult to see. Another clatter sounded from outside, accompanied by yet another bout of lightheadedness. Lovino just had time to look up from his leaning position against the counter to see two, shining black eyes on the other side of the sliding door before the whole thing shattered and whatever was on the other side broke into the house.

 

Lovino fired blindly twice, and heard the satisfying _thunk_ of a bullet entering skin. However, the thing he shot did not seem to be dramatically affected.

 

It was a human, or at least, it appeared to be. It had the form of an older man, wearing a plaid button up shirt and jeans. The only thing that was off about him were the cold, completely black eyes and the complete ignorance of the gunshot wound in his shoulder, bleeding profusely down his arm which hung uselessly at his side. He continued to advance towards Lovino as if he hadn't been hit at all.

 

“Lovino Vargas,” The man purred, his voice not quite human, “You were a very difficult soul to get to.”

 

_Soul._

 

So it was a demon. Even if Lovino wanted to respond, his voice was frozen in his throat with fear. 

 

The man kept walking, and Lovino shot two more bullets, taking out each off the man’s kneecaps and causing him to fall to the floor without any sign of agony or pain. It was as if he were a robot being controlled and one of his limbs had just broken.

 

As if he were a puppet, the man fell over limp before his mouth opened and black, acrid smoke poured out of his nose, mouth, and eyes and left him lifeless. Lovino backed further away in terror as the smoke took shape in the form of a horrific beast, with twisting, black horns, curling away from a beastly head. It's mouth was a set of what seemed like hundreds of crooked, razor-sharp teeth. It hunched over and had arms too long for its body, the tips of it’s fingers reaching what Lovino supposed would be its mid-calves, not counting the long, sharp claws. It’s clawed feet tapped against the wood floors as it paced towards Lovino, seeming to be in no hurry and taking pleasure in this.

 

Fearfully, Lovino fired another round, which landed in the demon’s side, but was absorbed and healed over in mere seconds. Terrified, he dropped the gun and reached for an engraved knife tucked into his waistband, only for the demon to notice the movement and move with sudden lightning-fast speed to wrap a hand around his throat and haul him upwards, his back pressed against the wall and his toes just barely reaching the floor. 

 

Staring at the beast this close up was so much more disturbing from far away, and Lovino thought about how he was going to have nightmares about this. He then realized he probably wouldn't live through this. 

 

The stinging edges of claws dug into his side, and Lovino tried to shift away from the pain, only to have the demon follow the movement and press further into his side. The knife in Lovino’s grip fell to the floor, his fingers tingly and weak.

 

“You’ve got a powerful soul,” The demon growled, “It’s too bad I can’t keep it for myself. Maybe I’ll get to have a _taste_ , at least.”

 

The creature licked it’s teeth, its hot breath disgusting. Lovino tried to lean away from it.

 

“Your grandad must’ve been _real_ desperate to offer your soul up for payment. That, or he doesn't give a fuck about you.” It hissed.

 

_What?_

 

Lovino’s head was racing almost as fast as his heart, why would _Nonno_ such a thing? Lovino hadn't seen him or his youngest brother, Emilio, in years. His grandfather would have no reason to want him dead, why would he offer his soul up to a demon?

 

As if it had read Lovino’s mind, the demon grinned. “Ah, I’m afraid that even I don’t have all the answers.”

 

Dizziness hit Lovino again, and he wondered if it was due to strangulation or not until he came around again, still pinned to the wall.

 

“I suppose we had better get on with it then,” The demon mused, “Can’t have you dying before the ritual is complete.”

 

With that, the demon pushed up Lovino’s shirt, its fingers resting on his abdomen, Lovino kicking and growling in protest as the demon began gargling out an incantation. Lovino felt pressure in the lower region of his chest and he squirmed, desperately trying to get away from the hand pressed against him, his hands wrapped around the demon’s wrist.

 

Just before the demon had muttered out the final verse of the incantation and Lovino was losing hope, the creature stopped short and startled before turning its head almost all the way around to look at its ankle.

 

Estrella was there, growling and biting at the demon’s heel, trying to protect Lovino even though she was terrified too. The demon’s lips curled back in disgust, and his arms curled back as if to slash her throat with its claws. 

 

Lovino didn't know what came over him. She was just a dog, after all, but the dog was trying to protect him, she was going to die trying to save him. A wave of emotion crashed over him at the same time his lightheadedness occurred and he screamed, grief-stricken, livid, lonely. 

 

His eyes rolled back in his head and he kept screaming, felt power surge through his bones like it used to, but stronger, more ruthless. Free.

 

It felt like forever, like he had been screaming for ages, but suddenly he was dropped, and he landed on a heap on the floor, his vision swimming and his head pounding. He scrambled to get on his hands and knees as his eyesight cleared.

 

There was glass everywhere. All the lightbulbs had blown to pieces. Lovino dully noticed there was shards from them stuck in his palms but he barely felt them, too distracted with everything else. 

 

Estrella was cowering by the counter, staring at him like he was a strange being. Blood was smeared on the floor and the body of the man who came after him still lied on the floor like a rag doll. But most importantly, right in front of Lovino, was a pile of dust where the demon one stood. 

 

Dazed, Lovino crossed himself and stood up on shaking feet, stumbling to the landline phone that was sitting on the counter. Estrella backed a few paces away, unsure if she could trust him, and Lovino felt his heart clench.

 

Numbly, he reached out for the phone and dialed Antonio’s cell number, his hands shaking as he brought the phone to his ear.

 

Two, three, four ring, and then thankfully, Lovino heard the sound of the phone picking up and Antonio’s breathing on the other end of the call. He took comfort in that, grounded himself in reality with the intake and exhale of air from Antonio’s lungs.

 

Finally, Antonio broke the almost-silence. 

 

“Lovino?” He said worriedly, “Is everything okay?”

 

Without even thinking, Lovino replied, “Can you come home?” His voice rough and empty.

 

He heard movement, and Antonio’s breathing had picked up. “Are you okay? What happened?”

 

Lovino glanced around the kitchen, wondering if there was any possible way to explain this over the phone.

 

“I killed a demon. There’s a mess. Are you on the way?”

 

“ _What?!”_

 

_“_ Just come home, Antonio.” 

 

He hung up the phone. 

 

~

 

As soon as Antonio pulled into the driveway, it was clear that something had gone terribly wrong. He had left his date halfway through and sped all the way to his home, but now, he considered turning around and never coming back. 

 

It seemed that every sigil had been broken by a cross of slash of red running across the locations where he had painted them. That, or they were literally broken, like the sections of fencing and the hole in one of the barn walls. Lovino had his power back, and the farm was now open to supernatural threats.

 

If he turned around, he might have the advantage of getting a day or two ahead of Lovino’s wrath. He could give himself at least a chance of survival, albeit not a great one. But Lovino _had_ called him, and he did sound tired and shaken and possibly hurt. He was a good liar, but Antonio suspected that Lovino was telling the truth this time.

 

So, pushing aside his own safety and accepting that this might be his last few moments on Earth, he pulled up to the house and parked, hurrying up the front steps and opened the door to the dark house. 

 

He didn't even notice Lovino until he had stepped inside and closed the door. He was sitting on the second stair from the floor, slumped, exhausted. Estrella sat a few feet away from him, her eyes trained on the witch. 

 

“How’d your date go?” Lovino questioned, his voice rough.

 

His words shook Antonio out of his speechlessness enough for him to ask, “What _happened?”_

 

Lovino gestured weakly towards the kitchen, which made all the little cuts on his hands visible. Antonio noticed purpling bruises around his neck and a few scrapes on his face. When he pulled himself up by the banister to stand, it was clear to see that one side of his shirt was shredded, and that there were three slash marks along the skin there, blood seeping out of them.

 

Seeing the disturbed expression on Antonio’s face, he said, “Wait until you see your kitchen.”

 

Trudging past Antonio, one hand pressed into the wounds at his side and the other waving off attempts to help him, Lovino led Antonio through the hallway and into the kitchen. 

 

Glass shards were everywhere. All of the lightbulbs in the room looked as if they had been blown apart, and the sliding door was completely destroyed. Blood smears and spatters decorated the floor and walls, a few of Antonio’s weapons, including one of his favorite pistols, were strewn across the floor. A man lay dead, his gunshot wounds leaking blood. But most disturbing of all, was what looked to be a pile of black ash, but upon closer inspection, had a few teeth mixed into the heap.

 

Lovino leaned heavily against the counter, his eyes nearly closed as he gazed at Antonio while he looked over the room. Blood leaked through his fingers and Antonio suddenly realized that making sure Lovino survived was much more important than whatever had happened while he was gone.

 

“Lovino, we need to get you to a hospital,” Antonio said, taking a step towards him and reaching out to move Lovino’s arm away from his most serious injury so he could see it clearly.

 

Lovino drew away, pressing the hand more firmly into his side, “It’s fine, it’s not that bad.” He murmured, “It’s not like I could leave with the sigils up anyways.”

 

The sigils. He still thought the sigils were up.

 

Realizing that this might be the only reason his head was still attached to his shoulders this very moment, Antonio schooled his expression into one that was not pure shock, but Lovino had already caught it and was peering at him suspiciously.

 

“What?” He questioned, sounding irritable that Antonio might be hiding something from him. Antonio was sort of surprised he could still force such a tone into his voice in his condition.

 

“I just…” Antonio stalled, glancing around the room until his eyes landed on the pile of ash again, “How did you kill it?”

 

Lovino stared that the demon remains, his eyes glazed over as if he were not quite here, not quite there.

 

“It was going to kill Estrella.” He explained distantly, “I screamed and then everything went white, it felt like electricity was coursing through my body. It felt like magic, but so much stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced before. When I could see again, the demon was gone.”

 

Suddenly, as if a spark of energy and traveled through him, Lovino’s eyes lit up with skepticism. It looked as if he were putting the puzzle pieces together, and Antonio found himself speechless before Lovino started stumbling towards the empty hole that had been the sliding porch door. 

 

“Lovino-“ He spoke, reaching out, panicked, to stop him from seeing what had happened outside.

 

“Move.” Lovino said, his voice empty of emotion as he waved a hand in the air, and without even touching him, Antonio was shoved away into the counter. 

 

He walked on the shards of glass like they were nothing, like they didn't cut his feet and leave him standing in his own blood. He was too caught up with staring outside, taking in the broken sigils and the magic coursing through his bones while Antonio was powerless to do anything.

 

He sank to his knees almost automatically and closed his eyes, knowing that these would surely be his last moments. Lovino would surely do to him what he had done to that demon, he would kill him as soon as he knew the truth. Antonio was stupid to come here after he saw the state the farm was in. 

 

But he was at peace with it, too. Hunters had died in much slower, much more painful ways. Judging by the looks of what was left of the demon, it would be quick. And at least he didn't have to be killed by a werewolf ripping his heart out, or a vampire draining him. He could die because the person he cared about most in the world killed him, which considering he and Lovino’s situation, felt strangely fair. 

 

He heard the pieces of glass on the floor shift, a sure sign that Lovino had turned around. His breath caught in his throat, even though he had accepted death, he was still a little afraid of what the afterlife might have waiting for him.

 

“What the _hell_ are you doing?”

 

Antonio’s eyes snapped open at Lovino’s sharp tone, who was rapidly approaching him and then hauling him up by his collar with more physical power than he should've possessed.

 

“Get me,” Lovino said, one hand clutching the shirt and the other his side, “to a fucking hospital, _now.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, but with more action! Let me know what you think! :)


	3. three

 

Of all the times Lovino had thought about having his magic back while he was at the farm, he sure as hell didn't think his first few moments of freedom would take place lying down in the backseat of Antonio’s truck being driven to a hospital because a demon attacked him. 

 

He could hear Antonio talking on the phone, sounding panicked, and driving a little recklessly, which didn't feel great on his wounds. He had his eyes closed, trying to shut out the pain in his side as he pushed the balled up towel Antonio had thrown at him into his side. He knew that the cuts weren't shallow, but _fuck_ they hurt, and he considered himself to have a pretty high pain tolerance. More than they should’ve, he thought.

 

The truck shifted, turning hard to the left, and Lovino smacked the back of Antonio’s seat in complaint. He was ignored. 

 

“So you’re not there?” He heard Antonio say to whoever was more important than paying attention to the road while Lovino was bleeding out in the backseat. 

 

“Well what are we supposed-“ Antonio was cut off by whoever was talking on the phone. Lovino groaned in frustration, because along with the slashes in his abdomen, he was starting to develop a headache due to the idiot he was currently dealing with.

 

“We’ll be there soon.” Antonio finally said, and hung up the phone, which hopefully meant he was shutting up.

 

Suddenly the truck took a right. Lovino didn't know this town _that_ well, but he was pretty sure that the hospital was the other way.

 

“What the fuck, Antonio?” He growled from the backseat, wondering if he could replace the blood he was losing with pure rage.

 

“I’m not taking you to the hospital.”

 

He said it so calmly. Like that was an appropriate response to Lovino getting blood all over the backseat of his truck.

 

“Why. The fuck. Not?” Lovino questioned, trying very hard to keep his temper under control.

 

“I know someone that can help us.” Antonio answered.

 

Lovino popped up from his previous position, immense irritation at Antonio proving to be enough to cause him to ignore the screaming pain in his side as he hauled himself lean up in between the two front seats. 

 

“I am not going to see one of your backwoods friends who do taxidermy which makes you think that he can sew up the gashes in my side. Take me to a hospital, or I will crash the car _with my brain_.” Lovino hissed out, staring at the side of Antonio’s face, who had suddenly decided to pay attention to the road.

 

“Calm down,” Antonio sighed, “Emma is actually a doctor, she’s just not in the ER tonight. She actually knows about the supernatural, so she should be able to tell if the demon did any spiritual damage. And I don't have any friends that do taxidermy.”

 

Lovino, mentally numbly but physically very painfully, laid back down int the backseat and pressed the towel against his side once again, accepting that Antonio might very well be driving him to his death. 

 

After what felt like forever and many more uncomfortable turns this way and that, Antonio pulled into a driveway and parked the truck before killing the engine and getting out. He opened the back door and helped Lovino get out in what seemed to be the least agonizing way possible, and yet it was still very agonizing. 

 

Lovino noticed that the house seemed to be nice, a house he could actually _see_ a doctor living in, which was a good sign. At this point he was about ready to take any medical care he could get as long as it wasn't from someone operating out of a shack in the woods. His side was starting to feel like the demon was still there, digging into it.

 

Antonio supported him on the walk up to the house, even though Lovino was pretty sure his legs worked just fine. They didn't even have to knock, as soon as they got to the front door, a blonde woman opened it. Her eyes widened fractionally as she saw the state Lovino was in. He presumed this was Emma.

 

“Here, come in, just lay him down on the table.” She said, holding the door open.

 

Lovino stumbled inside and tried not to drip blood on Emma’s pretty hardwood floors as he was led by Antonio into the dining room, where all the chairs had been moved out of the way and the table had been covered with a clear plastic tablecloth. It gave him the faint impression of an amateur serial killer’s setup.

 

He didn't have much time to think about that, because Antonio was taking off his shirt -and wow it had been a while since that last happened- before hauling Lovino up onto the table and making him lay on the side that wasn't wounded. When the cuts were in his clear sight, Lovino caught the disturbed look in Antonio’s eyes, which he thought would’ve been normal _if_ Antonio was a normal person who probably seen a lot worse. When he tried to lean up to see his side, Antonio pushed him back down.

 

“Don’t look at it.” He told Lovino, still staring at the slashes. 

 

“Why not?” Lovino protested, resisting against Antonio’s attempts to keep him from getting a good view of _his own_ wounds.

 

Just then, Emma decided to walk into the dining room, her arms full of an assortment of medical and mystical items. Her face turned a shade paler when she saw Lovino’s side.

 

“Holy shit.” 

 

“What is wrong?” Lovino questioned, finally managing to shove Antonio off and turn his head to fully view the cuts before freezing.

 

On the outside edge of each slash, it seemed like little black veins were forming underneath his skin, the same shade as the runes and glyphs tattooed all over him. As he watched them, he could see the black tendrils actually moving, _growing_. It was as if the demon had infected him. 

 

“Okay,” Emma said, shaking her head, “Okay, we can deal with this. _I_ can deal with this.”

 

Lovino did not think _he_ could deal with this. He really thought he had enough nightmare fuel. 

 

Emma set all her supplies down on the table and quickly sorted through them. Lovino laid his head back down on the table, wondering just how the hell Antonio had met this frantic woman, who was trusting and kind enough to let them into her home. 

 

She picked up a clear, glass bottle of liquid, her eyes darting up to meet Lovino’s in concern. He stared back in question, speculating if he was just going to continue to bleed on her nice, dining room table, or if she was going to get on with fixing him up. 

 

“So,” Emma started, taking a long, calming breath, “This might hurt. Actually, it is going to hurt. A lot.”

 

Lovino looked at bottle in her hands which was full what looked like water. “Isn’t that just antiseptic?” 

 

“Um,” She said, sounding nervous, “It’s actually holy water. Antonio told me you were attacked by a demon, I think it was able to pour some of its essence into the wound. When that reacts with the holy water, I believe it will dissipate, but it won't be painless.”

 

Lovino stared at her for what felt like twenty seconds before covering his eyes up with his arm in defeat. He supposed he'd rather have some pain now rather than be infected by a demon later, though this night was slowly working it’s way to the top of The Worst Days of Lovino’s Life. It stood at about fourth right now. 

 

Suddenly, he felt cool liquid hit his wounds, and for a split second, the holy water felt calming and cleansing, and then a moment later, the cuts seemed to be on fire. He screamed, cursing something or someone although he couldn't quite remember who or what, hands instinctively moving to clutch onto Antonio’s forearm with bruising strength. Antonio had to hold his torso still with his other hand to keep Lovino from squirming away from the pain burning through his side. It felt like a thousand knives, jagged and rusted, were digging into his cuts. It felt like someone had poured lighter fluid over his side and was tossed a match on him. It felt like pure hell.

 

Just as he was sure he was about to pass out from the pain, which seemed to last forever, blinding and raw, it finally stopped. His swimming vision cleared and he became aware that he was breathing heavily, a sheen of sweat covering his body. His throat felt sore and used and he could feel wet tear tracks on his face. He had let go of Antonio’s arm, which was purple with the indents of Lovino’s fingers, but he felt a thumb on his cheek, brushing back tears. Someone was saying his name, talking to him. He was so tired, but he forced his brain to focus on the man standing over him, concern welling up in his eyes.

 

“Lovino! Lovino, are you okay? Lovi-“

 

“I’m fine,” Lovino replied, his voice scratchy and painful to use. 

 

Relief flooded Antonio’s face, although Lovino didn't really understand why. Sure, he thought that Antonio cared about him, but he cared about him the way a psychiatrist cares about their client. Their relationship had grown distant and it seemed to Lovino that Antonio was only concerned with getting rid of his magic, if he could not get rid of Lovino.

 

He didn't have time to ponder that though, because Emma was talking.

 

“Alright,” She said, sounding shaken, “The worst part’s over. The demonic infection is gone. Now I just have to clean it out medically and stitch you up.”

 

Lovino nodded weakly, burying his head in his arms again. He felt the slight sting of the antiseptic as his wounds were washed out, but it was nothing compared to the holy water. 

 

He felt the pierce of a needle going through his skin, and flinched a bit, mostly from surprise. 

 

“Sorry,” Emma apologized worriedly, “I don’t have anything with me to numb it right now. Are you alright? Do you need a drink of water?” 

 

“I’m okay.” Lovino forced out of his raw throat, making his body relax again. He decided that he was starting to like Emma, even though she had poured liquid fire all over his side.

 

She continued her stitching, steady and professional, and Lovino was reminded of the first time he was taught to suture, just after he had turned ten. Feliciano was eight, and had gotten in a little trouble with some of the other pack pups while they had been messing around in the woods. No one had been badly hurt, but Feliciano had a deep, short cut on his upper arm. Roma had taught Lovino how to sterilize the gash and stitch it up while Feliciano cried. He wanted Lovino to learn how to take care of his brother, even though that should've been the pack’s job.

 

Sometimes he wondered if his grandfather was psychic, if he knew that Feliciano was going to leave the pack too when Lovino had been forced out.

 

His grandmother, Belinda, Roma’s wife, had been a witch too. Lovino had fond memories of her, teaching him everything she knew until she passed away when he was fifteen. He hadn't inherited the Lycanthrope gene that ran in the family, which was rare, but not unheard of. Both of his parents were werewolves, as well as his brothers, so Lovino usually felt singled out unless he was around Belinda.

 

Her passing had been hard on him, happening just a few years after his own parents were killed by hunters. The only thing that he had to be thankful of was that it was a natural passing, and that he inherited all of her things, as the pack had no use for them. He was able to teach himself from her grimoires and create his own spells, looking for guidance in older, fellow witches whenever he came across them. 

 

He worked hard. He developed his skills until he was sure that they were something his grandmother would be proud of, and then he developed them some some. He was a _good_ sorcerer, he had clients buying talismans and charms off of him left and right. He was helping people heal, he was keeping his small family living comfortably. 

 

And then Antonio had come along, and successfully fucked up Lovino’s life.

 

Emma finished up with the stitches and cleaned up the outside of the wound. Slowly, with the help of both she and Antonio, Lovino was pulled into a sitting position, his legs hanging off the side of the table. 

 

She picked up his bloody, torn shirt from the floor. “I don’t know if you’ll still want this, but I’m going to throw it in the wash. I’ll get one of my brother’s shirts for you to wear.” 

 

Disappearing from the room, she left only Lovino and Antonio and a heavy silence, weighed down with questions. 

 

“I would say sorry for your arm, but you deserved that shit.” Lovino finally said, breaking the quiet. He felt like bickering all of a sudden.

 

Antonio sighed, “Lovino, we need to talk about what’s going to happen after this.”

 

“After this?” Lovino scoffed, “After this I’m going back to the farm, getting all my stuff together, and leaving. I might take your dog with me.” 

 

“You’re not leaving.” Antonio argued.

 

“The hell I am,” Lovino replied fiercely, his throat still hurting from the screaming, “How do you plan on forcing me to stay there?”

 

“I’m not-“ Antonio cut himself off, rubbing a temple, “I can’t make you stay. I’m _asking_ you to stay.”

 

Lovino stared at him for a long moment, wondering if he had actually lost all his braincells. 

 

“Sorry, my Stockholm Syndrome hasn't quite skyrocketed to those proportions yet.” Lovino snapped, “Besides, you really don’t want me there, I’ve got a fucking demon with a price on my soul who is apparently willing to do anything to get to me, which includes whittling away for months at one anti-demon sigil so it can weasel it’s way into the farm.”

 

“But you killed the demon,” Antonio said, too confused to reply to Lovino’s first statement, “And why would it be wanting your soul? Unless you sold it, they can’t take your soul.” He was silent for another moment, the gears clearly working in his head, “Did you sell your soul, Lovino?”

 

Lovino rolled his eyes. “How stupid do you think I am?”

 

“Well if you didn't then why-“

 

“The demon said Roma did it. Apparently our familial relationship was close enough that he was able to use me as a bargaining chip.” Lovino explained, his voice clipped. 

 

Antonio visibly bristled at the mention of Lovino’s grandfather, which, from Lovino’s point of view, was due to the fact that he was the leader of a huge pack of werewolves and not because of what he had done to Lovino.

 

“Apparently the demon is working for another one. I'm guessing it’s even more of a nightmare, so even if I _wanted_ to stay, which I don’t, I would be leading it right back to you and the farm.” Lovino continued, staring at the wall past Antonio’s shoulder.

 

He’d like to say that his grandfather doing something like this to him was shocking. He’d like to act surprised, completely taken aback- _How could Roma_ ever _do such a thing?-_ but the truth was, he wasn’t. He was, of course, hurt, but he was pretty used to being considered unimportant in his grandfather’s eyes by now. Roma had high hopes for Lovino when he was young, but when his grandson never showed signs of being Lycan, it had apparently nearly destroyed the man, thinking all of his grandchildren would be the end of his lineage.

 

When Feliciano showed traces of the wolf at five, it was clear to even Lovino that it was the best day of Roma’s life. He had lit up with pride when Feliciano changed for the first time when he was thirteen. Belinda died in the following months, so for several reasons, it was the worst year of Lovino’s life. Even living on the farm, his magic suppressed by sigils, had been better than that.

 

“Why would your grandfather do that?” Antonio questioned, “What could possibly be worth your soul?”

 

“I don’t know,” Lovino shrugged cynically, “Probably a winning hand on poker night.”

 

Antonio have him a look, a look that said _I wish I could know what you’ve been through_ , a look that looked hurt _for_ Lovino. In response, Lovino quickly put up his walls and forced himself to remember what Antonio had done to him, no matter how much it shredded up what little was left of Lovino’s heart and reminded him he was truly alone in this world. He had to save himself because nobody else was going to.

 

Just as Antonio opened his mouth to respond to the flat stare Lovino was directing at him, they both heard footsteps, and then Emma was standing in the doorway holding a black - _god bless her-_ piece of fabric in her hands.

 

“Um,” Emma said, her eyes darting between Lovino and Antonio, “Your shirt’s in the wash, you can wear this one.”

 

She carefully paced up to Lovino and handed him a t shirt that would probably look big on even Antonio, but Lovino didn't care because it was dry and not caked in his blood. He slipped it over his head. the dark fabric comfortable and familiar.

 

“Thank you,” Lovino said, and he meant it. She was the first one of Antonio’s friends that he actually liked.

 

“You’re welcome,” She replied, seeming to slightly relax. Her eyes glanced to the window, where the sun was just barely beginning to come up. “Why don’t you boys let me fix you some breakfast?”

 

“Oh no, we couldn’t. You’ve already done enough for us.” Antonio said graciously, which made Lovino want to smack him, because _he was fucking hungry_.

 

“Nonsense, go sit down in the kitchen. Besides, Lovino needs it after what he’s been through.” She smiled at him, her green eyes glinting with geniality instead of panic now that their wasn’t exorcising a demon out of his wound.

 

Antonio relented, thanking Emma, and Lovino slid off the table to follow them into the kitchen, his entire body feeling stiff and sore, but in that good way that meant he wasn't dead.

 

Lovino sat down at the kitchen table, which was smaller than the dining room table and looked more used, little scrapes in the lighter wood here and there. He wondered if Emma used the dining room solely for emergency operations. 

 

Emma rummaged around in the fridge for a moment, taking out a couple of plates of sliced cheese and meat, a jar of marmalade, and a dish of butter. She placed them on the table before retrieving a loaf of bread and setting next to the other food.

 

“No waffles?” Antonio asked, his voice teasing.

 

Emma smiled at him, her eyes light with humor. “You know we actually don’t usually eat those for breakfast. Coffee anyone?” 

 

“God yes,” Lovino nearly sighed in relief.

 

Emma laughed softly at his enthusiasm and then accounted for Antonio’s nod of agreement, turning her back on them to brew a pot of coffee. 

 

“How’s your brother?” Antonio asked Emma, his tone casual, but Lovino could sense something strained underneath it. 

 

“Ned’s good,” Emma answered, “Last time he called me he was in Vermont hunting a vampire.”

 

“I’m surprised you didn't go with him.” Antonio said, one of his fingers tracing a scrape in the table.

 

“I don’t hunt much anymore. Work keeps me busy.” Emma replied, but the way she said it left Lovino wondering if there was more than her job keeping her from hunting. 

 

They fell into silence again until Emma poured them each a cup of coffee and brought them over to the table. Lovino took a sip, feeling liquid warmth spread throughout his body. It was _good_ coffee, it reminded him of how Feliciano was so picky about the coffee he bought. The memory of his brother ransacking the grocery store brought a dull ache to Lovino’s heart, but he pushed it aside.

 

He noticed Emma staring at his hands, eyes roaming over his knuckles where runes were tattooed. She must of felt his gaze, because she suddenly looked up and met his gaze before her eyes darted elsewhere, embarrassed at being caught.

 

“Sorry, I couldn't stop looking at them. They’re beautiful.” She said.

 

It occurred to Lovino that it had been a long time since someone called anything about him beautiful, much less his tattoos. 

 

“It’s okay,” He murmured, “Thanks.”

 

“What are they?” She asked, eyes returning to his hands and moving up further to his wrists.

 

“Runes, they help enhance my magic and some of them provide protection.” He flipped his wrist over where a pentacle was tattooed, “This wards off evil and defends from possession.” 

 

“Oh,” She said, studying the star, “Who did you have do them?”

 

Lovino saw Antonio tense up from the corner of his eye. He got a sick little rush of satisfaction from it.

 

“Arthur Kirkland.” Lovino answered simply, taking a sip of his coffee and picking up a piece of bread.

 

He watched as Emma’s features went through the usual routine; surprise, then disbelief, then reluctant trust, then intense curiosity. That name usually caused a bad taste in hunter’s mouths.

 

“Arthur Kirkland?” She asked, skeptical, “The witch?”

 

“That’s the one.” Lovino answered. 

 

“H-How…” Emma trailed off, clearly puzzled.

 

“They’re _friends,_ ” Antonio answered before Lovino had the chance to, a bitter little smile on his face. He and Arthur had history. 

 

“He has a tattoo shop up in Seattle.” Lovino explained, “He makes his own ink for his magically-inclined customers which make the runes more powerful.”

 

“But if he’s that easy to find, why aren’t there more people hunting him?” Emma questioned, confused.

 

“Arthur’s the best of his kind, which makes him difficult prey. So far a hunter hasn't been able to lay a finger on him.” Lovino replied.

 

The first time he had met Arthur, it had been just after he and Feliciano had left the family. He already had a couple of tattoos, but he had been hearing of an artist in Seattle who did amazing rune work and just happened to be a witch. Growing up with the pack and not having many connections to witches other than his grandmother meant he didn't know that Arthur was on his way to being the best witch alive. 

 

When he walked into the shop, he was greeted by an English man who was intrigued by his story. Even though Arthur was only a few years older than Lovino, he took him under his wing and taught him how to survive in a world filled with people who wanted to kill him. They became friends, he was the first person that didn't make Lovino feel like an outsider. Even though Arthur was more powerful, his magic running pure and strong through his veins, Lovino was never far behind, and he accredited it to being able to spend time and learn with Arthur. 

 

It was incredible than in the duration of their friendship, Antonio was never once brought up. It was so unbelievable that Arthur’s worst enemy was never brought up that Lovino truly wondered if the universe hated him.

 

“Well, that’s not exactly right,” Lovino said absently, tracing his finger along the rim of his cup,” I suppose one hunter in particular is laying _all_ of his fingers on Arthur.” 

 

Predictably, Antonio shuddered with disgust. He was so easy sometimes. 

 

“Francis isn’t a hunter, he just provides information to them.” Antonio protested.

 

“Same difference. Doesn't change the fact that your best friend is sleeping with a witch.” Lovino shrugged.

 

From the way that Antonio acted every time Arthur and Francis’s relationship was brought up, Lovino found it impressive that the hunter had been able to act like being intimate with him was enjoyable. Lovino supposed that Antonio was dedicated to his work, but he figured he would've caught him at least once with his guard down while they were sleeping together. But he had to be disgusted, disturbed that he was having to act like he was in love with a witch, he must’ve just been excellent at hiding it. Antonio proved to Lovino that he thought he was nothing more than a monster when he nearly burnt him at the stake.

 

Emma changed the subject, probably sensing that Antonio and Lovino were leaning on the precipice of having an argument. The conversation mostly revolved around the hospital that Emma worked at, which was a mostly safe topic. Breakfast continued in a calmer manner and Lovino began to feel himself finally relax after being on edge since the demon had attacked. 

 

He glanced out the window to see the sun shining bright, bluish morning light into the kitchen, filtered through clouds on the overcast day. The sound of the dryer alerting that it was done with its cycle pulled Lovino out of his serene daze. 

 

“We should probably get going,” Antonio said, standing up from the table, “Thank you for everything, Emma.”

 

“Anytime, I was happy to do it,” Emma said before turning to Lovino, “Just a second, and I’ll get your shirt.”

 

She disappeared into the laundry room and was back in a second with his torn up, but warm from the dryer, shirt. He moved to take off Ned’s and trade her, but Emma stopped him. 

 

“Keep it, Ned won’t even know it’s missing. Besides, there’s not much left of this one.” She held up his ripped up shirt, “If anything, its a reminder what you survived.”

 

“Oh,” Lovino said, taking the shirt from her, “Thanks.”

 

She hugged Antonio goodbye, which seemed familiar to Lovino, like they had done it many times before. What surprised Lovino was when she wrapped her arms around him. Numbly, he embraced her back, unsure of what was going on. It had been so long since someone had hugged him. 

 

She pulled away, her hands on hips and a stern look in her eyes as she faced Antonio. “Don’t make Lovino strain those stitches, and don’t stress him out, alright? God knows he needs all the rest he can get after what he’s been through.”

 

“I promise.” Antonio replied, an amused smile on his lips.

 

Emma’s eyes softened back down to the woman she was a moment ago. “You two be careful, I don’t want you getting any more injuries.”

 

Antonio and Lovino nodded and managed to leave the warm, comforting confines of Emma’s home no matter how much they wanted to stay. Lovino sat in the front passengers seat on the way back to the farm, watching the scenery go by. Now that he wasn't trying to suppress the blood coming out his side and it wasn't the middle of the night, he was able to actually enjoy the view. 

 

Although he wanted to stay awake in order to see someone other than the farm, he felt his eyes drifting closed with exhaustion. He fell into a light sleep with the security that his magic was at a good enough height that it would alert him if Antonio tried to trap him again and the reminder that he would be able to admire the outdoors tomorrow when he left the farm to find his brother.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! :)


	4. four

Antonio listened to Lovino’s steady breathing, the only sound in the car besides the hum of the truck’s tires against the road. He always looked calmer, less severe when he slept, and Antonio kept stealing glances from the road to look at him. It had been a long time since he had gotten the chance to see Lovino so relaxed.

 

The last time Antonio had seen him asleep had been their last night together, the night before Antonio led Lovino and his family out to that meadow and had almost killed them, effectively crumbling every last inch of trust they had built up with each other. But that night before, lying in bed, Lovino pressed up against his side, Antonio had panicked as he stared at the ceiling of their bedroom. 

 

He had thought of how he couldn't do it, how he couldn't even hurt, much less _kill_ Lovino. He had remembered how many times he had told Lovino that he loved him, how many times he _meant_ it. He had pushed the thought of having to dispose of Lovino and his family out of his head until Ned had called him three days prior and told him that he needed to stop wasting time, that he needed to see this through. He already had the witch trapped, _so why wasn't he acting?_ Ned had told him that if Antonio couldn't follow through with the job, he would. 

 

Antonio had met Francis two days before the execution was to be carried out and had wept, telling him that _couldn't_ do this but he _had_ to. Francis had comforted with eyes that said he understood, that Antonio being forced to amputate this part of his life that he had accidentally built would be too much, too painful to withstand. Too many parts of Antonio would have to die with Lovino and his family. 

 

Lovino had asked him what was wrong as soon as he had gotten off of the phone call with Ned, seeing that he was unable to hide how upset he was. Antonio had brushed it off as a sick family member, all while staring into Lovino’s perceptive hazel eyes and wanting to scream, “ _I have to kill you! That is what is wrong with me!”_

 

He had nearly broke down when Lovino wrapped his arms around him and said that it would be okay, that they would get through this. Antonio had clutched at his back and thought no, that only he would be coming out of of this alive, and he would not be whole.

 

He had been a good hunter, a _great_ hunter, his entire life. He had never let personal issues get in the way of a kill, remembering that this was for the best, that witches and werewolves and vampires had to be wiped off the earth for the safety of others. He had been raised to be stronger than the emotions inside of him, to never mistake a supernatural being or creature as something _good_. And he had lived his life that way, believing that he was doing the right thing, until he came across the case of Roma Vargas, and in extension, Lovino and Feliciano. 

 

He had decided to go for the two eldest grandsons first, who were separated from their pack and had kept a mostly low profile. Antonio had reasoned that it would be easiest to take out them out first and then face the rest of the pack without having to worry about a witch and another werewolf coming after him. 

 

Now, he wished he had just tried to go for Roma head-on and hadn't had the chance to fall in love with a witch he was supposed to be seducing.

 

The day that he was supposed to execute Lovino and Feliciano, when he lured them and Ludwig out into that meadow on false pretenses, unsurprisingly was the worst day of his life. He knew he could kill Feliciano. It would hurt to know he was murdering someone who seemed so sweet, but he could still pull the trigger.

 

But he also knew, as soon as he had poured gasoline over the pile of wood Lovino was kneeling on, that he couldn't kill him. He had to, but he couldn’t. There would be no way his body would allow itself to light the match, to throw it down on the pyre. Lovino was necessary to him.

 

Which was why, when he offered Antonio a deal, he took it.

 

Antonio pulled into the driveway of the house and cut the engine, looking over to see Lovino still asleep, unbothered. Antonio glanced outside to take a good look at the farm in the daylight.

 

It was exactly as it was when they left it, except perhaps it looked a bit worse in the sunshine. Antonio carefully looked over the damage done to all the now-broken invisible sigils. Something was gnawing at Antonio’s conscience, making him ask _why_ and _how._ He usually didn't try to use reason when it came to the supernatural, but this was too strange for him to ignore.

 

Why would the demon break all of Lovino’s magic-binding sigils? Why would it allow Lovino to have to much power when his soul would've been much easier to take if he was magically weak? Why wouldn't it just break the anti-demon sigil, sneak into the farm, and leave the rest?

 

He didn't even realize Lovino was awake until he turned back to see sleepy hazel eyes staring at him. 

 

“We’re back.” Lovino said, his voice lazy. 

 

“Yeah.” Antonio breathed, forcing himself to look out the window again before he said or did something stupid. 

 

“What’s bothering you?” Lovino asked, noticing Antonio’s eyes roaming over the farm, “Besides your farm being destroyed and me having my magic back, that is.”

 

“I just,” Antonio said, leaning back in his seat, “I don’t get it.”

 

“The sigils?” Lovino asked.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Me neither. Demons are fuckin’ weird.”

 

A year ago, Antonio might’ve considered the intimacy of the situation normal, if the conversation was different. Now it felt familiar, but dangerously so, as if they were dancing on the edge of what used to be. 

 

Still, Antonio turned his head back to look at Lovino with longing in his eyes and asked, “You really won’t stay?”

 

Lovino looked away, out the windshield of the car. 

 

“Not a chance in hell.” He said, but it wasn’t spiteful, it was soft and reaffirming.

 

“What are you going to do?” Antonio questioned, wondering how long they could stay in this truck, separate from the world around them. 

 

Lovino shrugged. “Find my brother, find my grandfather. Ask him why he sold my soul. Figure out a way to get out of that situation.” 

 

Antonio nodded solemnly, knowing that Lovino couldn't stay, even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He had a job to carry out, and then a life to live, which Antonio had briefly gotten in the way of. He hadn't even realized until this moment that he had put his life on pause for Lovino too, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to hit “play”. 

 

“We should probably clean up inside, at least.” Lovino said.

 

“Yeah.” Antonio agreed quietly, but didn't move until he heard the _pop_ of Lovino’s door unlocking and opening, and the _crunch_ on him stepping out from the truck and onto the gravel driveway. Reluctantly, Antonio followed suit and trailed Lovino as they walked up the front steps and into the house.

 

Estrella was at the front door to greet them, pressing her head up against Lovino’s hand, seeming to trust him again. He scratched her ears and made sure she hadn’t gotten into anymore trouble while they were gone. Antonio brushed past them and walked into the kitchen, were the mess was. 

 

It was still a mess, glass everywhere and natural light filtering through both the broken sliding door and the intact windows. There was no electric lighting, all the bulbs having been shattered. The body and the demon ashes were still where they left them, untouched, and blood still decorated the walls and floor. 

 

He heard footsteps and felt Lovino’s presence behind him as the Italian peeked over his shoulder into the kitchen. 

 

“Jesus,” Lovino sighed, pushing past Antonio and walking into the mess, commanding Estrella to stay out of the room. 

 

“We should probably start with the glass first.” Antonio suggested, figuring that working around it would be a pain in the ass.

 

“Mhm.” Lovino agreed. 

 

Before Antonio had the chance to turn around and retrieve a broom and pan from the hallway closet, Lovino was lifting his hand, his fingers just slightly curled to show tension in his palm. A large amount of the glass on the floor seemed to suspend itself in midair, catching the light from outside prettily. Lovino twisted his hand quickly, and all in a rush the glass returned to the sliding door and fused together again seamlessly, as if a demon hadn't come crashing through it. Lovino dropped his hand and relaxed, but the glass held.

 

It occurred to Antonio that this was the first time, besides when he shoved him aside without touching him last night, that he had seen Lovino use his magic. Even though it was miraculous and astonishing, hestill shot Lovino a flat look. He knew how Antonio felt about magic.

 

Lovino turned around to see the look that Antonio was giving him and rolled his eyes, unaffected.

 

“If you’re bothered by that, I’m glad you weren’t around to see me disintegrate the demon.” Lovino grumbled.

 

“I actually don’t mind that you used your magic for that, because it was _necessary_.” Antonio retorted, not really in the mood to argue but willing to if Lovino continued to push it.

 

Lovino looked at him like he was the stupidest human being on the planet. “Antonio. We would've spent ages cleaning up that glass, and you would've also had to get a new door. I just fixed both of those problems. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll clean everything else up like a _normal_ person.” 

 

“Fine.” Antonio relented.

 

“AfterIcleanuptheglassfromthelightbulbs.” Lovino rushed out, and before Antonio had time to process what he was saying, the thinner glass pieces from the lightbulbs were being hovered magically in the air and discarded in the trash can.

 

“Lovino!” Antonio exclaimed.

 

“I’m done now, I swear.” Lovino threw over his shoulder, walking further into the kitchen now that the floor wasn't covered in shards of glass. He stopped next to the body of whoever the demon had been puppeteering around.

 

“What do you want to do with the body?” Lovino asked, looking down at the dead man on the floor. 

 

“Burn it, probably. Should probably build a pyre first.” Antonio said absently, leaning against the doorframe. “Go look upstairs for some extra sheets and tape. I’ll start building it near the woods.”

 

“Okay.” Lovino replied, brushing past Antonio to jog up the stairs. 

 

Antonio left the house, wondering just what was keeping Lovino here. He could’ve easily retrieved his things from the house and set off a moment afterwards, but he felt the need to stay and help Antonio clean up the mess left behind by the demon. He brushed the thought away, accrediting it to Lovino not wanting to feel like he owed him anything.

 

Lovino walked across the farm, gathering up stray pieces of wood leftover from the broken fence posts and the wall knocked in the wall of the barn. He gathered them all up in a pile in the middle of the yard, and when he realized that he would need more wood, he started pulling off more loose slats of wood from the barn walls and throwing them into the pile. It wouldn't be a perfect pyre, but Antonio would have to make do with what he had at his disposal. When he estimated he had enough wood, he threw it into the back of his truck with a large metal cattle grate he had acquired for situations such as these and drove out to where the farm met the woods. 

 

He started building the pyre near the woods, but not close enough to catch any trees on fire. He dragged the metal grate out first, used it as a foundation for the rest of the pyre which would allow oxygen to flow through the structure and help the body burn faster. He continued building over it, alternating patterns of how he laid the wood until he was out. 

 

He ventured into the woods to find some large branches that storms might've knocked down, which would camouflage the pyre and make it look like a bonfire if someone _did_ happen to see it, which wasn't likely. Antonio pretty much lived in the middle of nowhere. Along with the branches, he also retrieved some dried leaves and small twigs to act as kindling. 

 

In truth, he didn't really _need_ Lovino to go looking for the sheets and tape, but Antonio didn't really want his help with building the pyre, afraid it might bring back bad memories of Antonio almost burning him at the stake. If Lovino was going to leave, he didn't want their last day together to be infected with such terrible memories.

 

~

 

Lovino tore his eyes away from the upstairs window, forcing himself not to watch Antonio tear wood away from the sides of the barn with _his bare fucking hands how strong was he?_

 

He had found the extra sheets and tape easily, knowing the house by heart. He ventured back down the stairs, figuring he’d rather prepare the body than help Antonio build the pyre, which was sure to be strenuous than Lovino would like it to be. 

 

He returned to the kitchen where the mans body was, lying on the floor, his gunshots having longsince stopped bleeding. Lovino reached out for his shoulder, but paused midway through, remembering that this man probably did not ask for this possession, did not ask to die. Lovino sighed and fished the cross out he wore around his neck out from under his shirt and said a brief prayer for the man’s soul, wherever it was. 

 

He slid the cross back underneath his shirt, which he supposed was actually Ned’s shirt, and resumed turning the body on its back. He didn't recall when he stopped being bothered by the dead, but he remembered that his grandmother never was, and she would always prepare the body when there was a death in the pack. 

 

Predictably, the man was stiff from rigor mortis, so Lovino began massaging out an arm in order to introduce some flexibility into the limb. Slowly, the muscles began to relax and Lovino was able to fold the arm over the man’s chest and begin on the other arm. With a little more trouble, Lovino was able to fold the other arm over the man’s chest. Thankfully, his legs were pretty straight so Lovino didn't have to worry about them. 

 

He retrieved a pair of scissors from a kitchen drawer and cut a thin piece of cloth from the top on a sheet and used it to tie the man’s mouth closed. Lovino laid out a sheet on the floor and then dragged the dead man over to it, lying him down on top of the cloth. He wrapped the body with the sheet and then secured it with a tight wrapping of tape. It took two more sheets and several more strips of tape before the body was completely covered and wrapped to Lovino’s satisfaction. 

 

Just as he was standing up to stretch his legs from kneeling on the floor, Lovino heard the front door open and Antonio walk inside. He came into the kitchen, a look of surprise on his face when he saw that Lovino had already prepared the body.

 

“Oh,” He said, “Lovino, you didn't have to-“

 

“It’s fine.” Lovino interrupted, “I already knew how to do it.”

 

Antonio nodded, seeming hesitant. Lovino noticed dark circles under his eyes and realized that he hadn't slept since the night before yesterday, preoccupied with his date and having to take Lovino to Emma’s.

 

“Is it ready?” Lovino asked, leaning back against the counter.

 

“Yes,” Antonio replied, “I can take the body there and light it.”

 

“I want to help.” Lovino told him, wondering why Antonio wasn't asking him to come along.

 

Antonio pressed his lips together, looking reluctant. “You don’t have to, Lovino, you’ve already helped enough, and I can handle-“

 

“What the hell is going on?”

 

Antonio averted his eyes, looking down at the floor. Lovino could feel his patience wavering. His good mood from his nap in the car was starting to wear off.

 

“I didn’t…” Antonio said quietly, still staring at the floor, “I didn't want to make you remember.”

 

Lovino stared at him for a moment, confused, until all the pieces started clicking in place. He didn't want Lovino to have to associate the pyre with almost being burnt at the stake. He didn't want to drudge up bad memories. What Antonio didn't realize was that Lovino’s life was kind of one, long, bad memory, and that he wasn't fragile. 

 

“I’m fine.” Lovino told him brusquely, “Help me pick up this body, it’s heavy.”

 

Antonio looked up at him, his eyes painfully hopeful. “Are you sure?”

 

Lovino let out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, I’m fucking _sure._ Now help me before I make you carry this all by yourself.”

 

Antonio hurried to his side, picking up the man’s shoulders while Lovino picked up his feet. They had to stop and set him down before the front door so they could open it, but after that it was only a short hail until they were loading the body into the bed of Antonio’s truck. 

 

They drove out to the pyre, which Lovino silently approved, concluding that it was probably the best Antonio could do with the materials he had on hand. They unloaded the body from the truck and set it atop the pyre before Antonio poured kerosine over the whole thing, which was the only part of the whole experience that made Lovino’s heart twinge, because he looked _just_ like he did when he was pouring gasoline all over the wood Lovino had been kneeling on in that meadow in June. He pushed the small, annoying feeling down though and watched as Antonio lit a match and threw it on the pyre. It didn't burst into flame as Lovino had expected it do, simply started to burn steadily.

 

They gathered up the large tree branches that Antonio had gotten from the forest and placed them over the pyre strategically so that it wouldn't look like they were burning a body. Lovino doubted anyone would actually notice if they hadn't noticed Antonio basically keeping someone hostage for nearly a year, but they decided to play it safe anyways.

 

They stayed there for a moment, leaning against the hood of Antonio’s truck, watching the pyre burn. Lovino wondered what he was still doing here, why he was helping Antonio clean up this mess when he could be on the road. Nothing was holding him here anymore, and Antonio sure as hell couldn't stop him if he tried to leave, not with the level that his power was on now.

 

“Who taught you to prepare a body like that?” Antonio asked, interrupting Lovino’s train of thought.

 

“My grandmother.” Lovino answered, watching the fire burn.

 

“The witch?” Antonio asked, his eyes trained on the pyre as well.

 

“Mhm.” Lovino answered, thinking of Belinda and how she would probably be rolling in her grave (if she had one) if she knew what Roma had done.

 

“What was she like?” Antonio questioned, seeming purely curious.

 

“Well,” Lovino said, “She wouldn't sell my soul to a demon, so i guess she was okay.”

 

Antonio looked over at Lovino, he could feel his gaze on the side of his face.

 

“I’m sorry he’s done this to you.” He spoke quietly, comfortingly. Lovino tried not to let the tone affect him.

 

“I wish I could say I’m surprised.” Lovino scoffed. 

 

When Lovino had brought up leaving the pack to Roma had seemed slightly sad, but not disagreeable to the idea, saying that he also thought it would be best for Lovino to “find people like him”. However, when Feliciano said that he wanted to go with Lovino, Roma was distraught, saying that he was the his eldest Lycan grandson, his successor, that he was in line to inherit the pack. He blamed Lovino for putting ideas in Feliciano’s head that would cause him to abandon the pack because Lovino was _jealous_. He more or less kicked Lovino out, while he begged for Feliciano to stay. 

 

In other words, they didn't end on the best of terms.

 

“It’s just, everything I’ve heard about him makes him seem like a decent pack leader. I don’t understand why he would do this to you.” Antonio murmured.

 

“My grandfather is decent to everyone that had Lycan genes. I don’t, so I didn't deserve to be treated as well as Feliciano or Emilio.” Lovino replied.

 

Antonio’s face gave away none of his emotions, but Lovino caught his hands flexing in anger, for reasons that Lovino did not feel like thinking about.

 

“Let’s head back.” He told Antonio, “There’s still a mess left in the kitchen.”

 

Antonio looked like he wanted to say something, but resisted against it and just nodded. Lovino was glad. He didn't like to talk about his grandfather anyways, and the knowledge that he had used Lovino in a wager with a demon wasn't making things any better.

 

They got back in the truck and returned the house, but Lovino watched the pyre burn in the rear view mirror all the way back. He wondered what Antonio would’ve done if he came home to see him dead on the kitchen floor, if he had lost his fight with the demon. Would he of been sad? Would he of missed Lovino? Would he be relieved in the end, to finally have the witch off his hands?

 

Antonio was so hard to read now that the trust between them had been broken. Lovino had thought he knew him, knew him better than anyone, but it had been a lie. He couldn't tell what parts of Antonio were real and made up now, couldn’t tell if he was still pretending. After all, he had faked love for a year, he could be faking anything. It felt Lovino would never really see him for who he actually was.

 

Everything had changed since the day in the meadow, which Lovino supposed should be considered normal, but it just felt like walls were up that weren't there before. They had seen the ugliest versions of each other: Antonio, with a gun in one hand and a match in the other, ready to kill both Feliciano and Lovino; and Lovino, on his knees, begging for a deal, ready to do anything, _anything,_ if it meant saving Feliciano’s skin. 

 

The ride back to the farm after that day had been strangely quiet, seeing how packed the day had been with emotions. Lovino didn't scream at Antonio or try to provoke him, he just sat silently in the passengers seat, staring at the road ahead of them, realizing that both their future and his magic were as good as dead. So much had been taken away from him in one day; his love, his family, and his power. Everything he cared about was gone.

 

He wanted to ask Antonio, _“Did you ever love me? Was I ever worth that to you?”_ But he didn’t, because he had pride, goddamnit. It was just so confusing now, because Lovino _had_ been guarded, he had his walls up, and yet, Antonio hadseemed honest when he told Lovino he loved him. It didn't appear to be a lie, and Lovino wasn't easy to deceive. People described him as moody and closed off and distant, so how did Antonio worm his was into his life?

 

“Lovino?”

 

He snapped out of his thoughts to see they were back at the house. Antonio was looking at him with wide emerald eyes, concerned, but Lovino ignored it and chose not the respond to the Spaniard as he got out of the truck and made his was back inside the house.

 

The kitchen was free of the glass and the body, but the demon’s ashes remained and blood still spattered the room. Lovino was just thankful that he wasn't attacked somewhere with carpeting, because that would've been an absolute bitch to get out. 

 

The demon ashes were a predicament. What should be done with them? It didn't feel appropriate to just vacuum them up and throw them away, but Lovino didn't know if they held any power, be it dangerous or beneficial. He picked up a tooth from the pile, nicking his finger on the sharp edge. 

 

He heard Antonio step into the kitchen but he didn't turn around, still examining the tooth, still remembering what it looked like when it was surrounded by hundreds of others in the mouth of the demon. He didn't recall the fang looking so pure white when it was attached it its owner, and wondered if his magic had somehow bleached it.

 

“You’re bleeding,” Antonio remarked, worry in his voice.

 

“It’s just a tiny cut.” Lovino replied. 

 

“Still, you’ve already been hurt enough today.” Antonio told him, “Here, let me see it.”

 

Lovino reluctantly dropped the tooth back into the pile of ashes and held out his hand to show Antonio the small, superficial wound. It was only a little bit bigger than a paper cut, and in Lovino’s opinion, Antonio was being dramatic, but he didn't resist when a bandaid was retrieved and wrapped around his finger. 

 

“What do you want to do with the remains?” Lovino asked, “I don’t think we should just throw them away. They still might have energy.”

 

Antonio nodded in agreement. “I’ll figure out somewhere safe to put them, Francis might know a place. I’ll give him a call. In the meantime, you should rest.”

 

“I’m fine.” Lovino replied, even though he felt exhausted in ways he didn't even know existed.

 

“Last night was traumatizing, you need your sleep.” Antonio argued, “And don't say you slept in the car. A thirty minute nap doesn't count.”

 

Lovino rolled his eyes, but relented. If Antonio wanted to stay here and finish cleaning while he slept, it was fine by him. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to greeting memories of the demon in his nightmares, but he was so, so tired. His magic could only keep him invigorated for so long. 

 

“Whatever,” He said, brushing past Antonio, heading out of the kitchen, “Just don’t do any dumb shit. I’ll know if you try to trap me here.”

 

Antonio didn’t respond, but Lovino didn’t think he had actual cause for concern. His magic was stronger than he ever remembered it being, and it was on the defense, not wanting to be restrained again. It would alert him if something was wrong, but he also didn’t think Antonio was going to test it, either. The demonic ashes seemed to leave a lasting impression of just what he was capable of.

 

The stairs were a bitch, soreness erupting everywhere. The day had been long and strenuous, and now, without any distractions, Lovino’s body finally thought it was a good time to tell him that he had been through too much. By some miracle he reached the second story and shuffled into his room, finally taking a look at himself in the mirror. 

 

His eyes were framed by dark circles, matched by bruises that wound around his neck from the demon choking him. His skin seemed to be a shade paler than it usually was, making the minor nicks and scratches scattered all over his body stand out. He lifted up Ned’s shirt, which was much too big for him, to see the sewn up gashes in his side. The stitches were clean and professional, and there didn’t seem to be any residual demonic essence left in the wound, which was good, but Lovino knew that the cuts would scar.

 

In short, he looked like shit.

 

Sighing, he peeled off the shirt the rest of the way, his other clothes following. He was tired, of course, but he also felt like he was covered in a layer of dirt and grime and death that he just wanted _off_. Numbly, he dragged himself into the bathroom and then into the shower, turning on the water and waiting patiently for it to warm up as cool drops hit his back.

 

Once it heated up to what Lovino considered an acceptable temperature- as hot as the pits of hell- he began to feel human again, like all of what happened was washing off of his skin. He was careful of his stitches, but his side still ached with pain no matter what he did. Still, being clean at least made him feel like he could start focusing on the future.

 

He was leaving tomorrow. He was finally getting out. 

 

And yet, he didn’t feel as happy as he thought he would. The whole demon deal certainly put a damper on things, but still. He had his magic back, stronger than it had ever been before, and he was going to find his family, and he was going to be rid of Antonio. Wasn’t that what he had been wanting this entire time?

 

He blamed his strange emotions on his exhausted state, his frazzled nerves, his overworked body. Once he had finally rested, he would be able to think straight. He was just far too tired for this right now.

 

Determining that he had managed to wash all of what had happened to him in the last thirty six hours off himself, he turned off the water and toweled himself dry before padding back into his bedroom. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants before slipping into bed, drifting off almost as quickly as his head hit the pillow.

 

He was going to be free. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for taking so long to update, college is currently kicking my ass. I know this isn't the most exciting chapter, but it was necessary (and I also wanted to update by Halloween lmao). We do get some insight on Lovino's past this chapter, but I'll try not to drown you in memories next chapter. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> P.S. I have a if you wanna check it or or talk to me on it or some shit idfk  
> https://noxlunar.tumblr.com/  
> Oh also I have another account on here with another fic I'm currently working on if you want to check that out @ rumblerose


	5. five

Antonio stared at the pile of demonic ashes in his kitchen, bright white teeth standing out against the grey flakes. The rest of his kitchen was clean, blood gone from the floors and the cabinets, and the ashes were all that remained in the kitchen of the previous night. The rest of the property was still an absolute wreck, and the body was probably just about done cremating down by the woods, but Antonio would be satisfied for now if his house just felt normal.

 

He supposed normal was a lot to ask for right now, considering Lovino was sleeping upstairs, his magic unrestrained and much stronger than before due to being oppressed for such a long time, only to be freed so suddenly. It wore him out, but it also caused a sort of tension that Lovino had been holding in so long to be released. Antonio could see the change as soon as they left Emma’s, in the way his muscles didn’t seem tensed to defend himself and his eyes didn’t look so guarded. He still looked like hell from his fight with the demon, but he just seemed less cagey.

 

The way Lovino acted now was just so painfully _familiar_.

 

Antonio sighed and turned away from the ashes, picking up the phone which had been left on the counter by Lovino. He dialed Francis’s number, hoping for advice on the demon remains on his floor and the witch sleeping upstairs.

 

It took Francis until the third ring to finally pick up.

 

“Antonio!” He said, “It’s been a while, you never call me anymore.”

 

Antonio could hear a quiet guitar being plucked at on the other end of the call, an indication that Arthur was nearby. He felt irritation prick at the back of his mind, but pushed it aside. Now was not the time.

 

“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” He told Francis, which wasn’t exactly true. When he first brought Lovino back to the farm, he thought that every moment of his days from then on would be spent trying to make sure Lovino wasn’t finding ways to gain his power back, but he didn’t. He abided by the deal that they made, that he would give up his magic and his brother would live. Even so, Antonio just stopped hunting. He made excuses for it, telling himself that he had far too much on his hands right now to even think about tracking down and killing another witch or werewolf or vampire, but he also didn’t really _want_ to. 

 

It was hard to take up a hunt when he knew he’d have to come back home and see Lovino. How could he put a bullet in between another monster’s eyes without hesitation? How could he be merciless again?

 

“I’m sure you have been,” Francis laughed, “Lovino can be a lot to handle.”

 

“That’s actually what I’m calling about,” Antonio said, “Something happened last night.”

 

“Oh, are you two finally sleeping together again?” Francis asked, more innocently than really should’ve been possible. Antonio heard the guitar-playing halt and a shocked, English-accented ‘ _What?!’_ after Francis had said it. 

 

“Not quite,” Antonio replied, hearing scuffling and Arthur’s cursing, demanding that Francis give him the phone.

 

“What happ- _Would you stop he said no-_ Don’t pay attention to him, he’s being irritating.” Francis said, apparently fending Arthur off.

 

“A demon got in the house.” Antonio told him.

 

The other end of the call grew silent, both Francis seeming to almost freeze.

 

“Are you okay?” Francis finally asked, his tone far more serious than before. 

 

“I wasn’t home.” Antonio explained, “Lovino was here alone.”

 

“ _Mon Dieu_ , is he alright?” Francis breathed, “How did it even get in? Your warding should’ve held it off.” 

 

Antonio paused for a moment, running his free hand over the granite countertop he was standing beside. The exhaustion was finally starting to hit him in the absence of adrenaline, and his body was beginning to ache from what he had put it through and just tiredness in general. Not to mention that now that he had time to process what had happened, how close Lovino came to death, he felt emotionally drained.

 

“He’s okay,” Antonio said, “I guess the demon chipped away at one of the sigils that I didn’t have such a close eye on. Once it got in it destroyed most of the other warding, so Lovino gained his magic back and was able to fight it off.”

 

“He has…” Francis trailed off, “He has his magic back?”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“And you’re not missing your head?”

 

Antonio sighed, a small, tired smile appearing on his lips, “Not yet.”

 

Which really was kind of a miracle in itself. Lovino should’ve wanted to kill him, but he didn’t. He wasn’t as angry, as full of rage as Antonio had thought he would’ve been. The giant demon gashes across his side might’ve done something to calm his temper, but even after he was healed, he didn’t seem to want to hurt Antonio.

 

It was more than what Antonio deserved from him.

 

“Your luck never ceases to amaze me.” Francis said, laughter in his voice. 

 

“Speaking of luck,” Antonio said, “When Lovino destroyed the demon, it left behind a pile of ash and some teeth. Can that cause any harm or be useful in any way?”

 

“Jesus, what did he do, cremate it?” 

 

“Something like that.”

 

“Well,” Francis pondered, “It certainly would be possible that the remains could carry dark energy, but I’m not educated on demonic ashes. Put them in warded container, burn some sage, sprinkle some holy water, say a few prayers, and wear a cross. I’ll try to find some more information on what to do with them and you bring them to me as soon as you can.”

 

“ _Gracias_. I’ll see you soon.”

 

Just as Antonio was going to hang up the phone, Francis stopped him.

 

“Antonio.” He spoke, “Are you going to be able to let him go?”

 

“Lovino? I don’t really think I have much of a choice anymore.” Antonio replied.

 

“That’s not what I meant.”

 

Antonio fell quiet for a moment, staring out of the repaired glass of the doors. It was clean in the kitchen, but the rest of the farm was destroyed, proof of what had happened, of what danger Lovino had been in. 

 

Finally, he said. “We’ll talk about it later.” And hung up the phone.

 

~

 

Lovino woke up just as the sun was beginning to set. Warm, orange-tinged light filtered into his room and onto him. He had only had one nightmare, and it hadn’t even been about the demon, so Lovino considered it to be a nice bit of rest. Not wanting to test his luck, he dragged himself out of bed and pulled a t-shirt over his head before padding downstairs.

 

If he didn’t look outside, it was hard to tell that anything had occurred the previous night. It just seemed like another warm summer night on the farm, except now the chickens were dead and the barn was torn up and Lovino’s side ached. 

 

He rounded the corner into the kitchen and found Antonio asleep at the table, his head lying on his folded arms. Estrella laid at his feet, but perked up once she heard Lovino come in. There was a metal box with warding engravings on each side sitting on the table, and the ashes and teeth were gone from the floor. A vial of what Lovino supposed what was holy water was next to the box and the kitchen smelled like sage.

 

A year ago, Lovino might’ve been stirred at sunrise by the coolness of an empty bed, leading him to venture out into their shared home. A year ago, he might’ve found Antonio asleep at their kitchen table after a night of drinking with his friends, and he secretly might’ve found it endearing. A year ago, Lovino might’ve hauled Antonio’s drunk ass into their bedroom even though it was a complete pain because he loved him, and when you love someone, you want him to sleep in his bed and not passed out at the kitchen table. When you love someone, like Lovino loved Antonio a year ago, you want him to sleep next to you even if he smells like a bottle of wine was spilled all over him.

 

But it wasn’t a year ago, and Lovino’s love for Antonio was dead, so the sight of him asleep at the kitchen table just hurt. He wondered if when he made that deal with Antonio to save his brother, if he also gave up any chance at romance along with his magic. How could he trust someone with his heart again after someone he loved so much tore it from his chest?

 

Jesus, he was thinking like Feliciano again. The truth was, Lovino knew that he could blame what happened all he wanted on Antonio, but if Lovino had his defenses up, if he had watched out for himself and his family, this wouldn’t of happened. It had been instilled in him since he was young that witches were a dying breed, that all they had was each other and their families, that no one was to be trusted. It was the only way to ensure their survival and safety, but Lovino had fallen for a Spanish farmer with a beautiful smile and bright eyes without ever giving it a second thought. Looking back on it, it was all so suspicious, how Antonio had come into his life, but Lovino had ignored all the signs.

 

He couldn’t afford to be stupid anymore.

 

Estrella got up and paced over to Lovino to receive a head pat, which stirred Antonio from his slumber. Blearily, he sat up and rubbed at his eyes, taking in the scene around him. Lovino could only imagine how fucked up their sleeping patterns were going to be.

 

“Oh,” Antonio said, trying to catch up with his environment, “You’re up.”

 

“Mhm,” Lovino responded, scratching behind Estrella’s ears before approaching the table to get a better look at the warded box. “Did you call Francis?”

 

“Yeah, he said to keep the ashes in the box and cleanse the area, which should keep any dark energy under control until I can get it to him.” Antonio explained, eyes running over Lovino like he was taking inventory. “How’s your side?”

 

Lovino pulled up the edge of his shirt to get a look at his wounds. He’d forgotten to check them before he had come downstairs, but they didn’t hurt too terribly. Purple bruises surrounded the stitches, and he was a little sore, but other than that it wasn’t bad. He dropped the fabric of the shirt and let it fall back to his hip.

 

“How do you feel?” Antonio asked.

 

“Not possessed, if that’s what your asking.” Lovino responded. 

 

“I was asking about the pain.”

 

Lovino shrugged. “The magic helps.”

 

It did. The magic had calmed down from feeling like it was thrumming through his veins with enough strength to overextend his body and had settled, but Lovino could still feel its power, its influence. He was still as strong as the moment he got his magic back, but he had a better handle on it now, more control.

 

“What are you going to do?” Antonio asked, for the second time that day, Lovino remembered.

 

“Like I said, find my brother, talk to Roma. Try to figure this shit out.” Lovino replied, “I’ll have to stop by and see Arthur, he might know where Feliciano and Ludwig went. I can take the ashes to Francis.”

 

“No, no,” Antonio said, rising from his chair and stretching, “Don’t worry about it?”

 

Lovino quirked an eyebrow. “Think I’ll use them for some dark, scary, apocalyptic spell?”

 

“I think that if you really wanted the ashes that badly, you could just take them from me.” Antonio answered, brushing past Lovino, “But you don’t seem to want them all that badly. I need to talk to Francis in person anyways.”

 

Lovino turned around, watching Antonio walk through the kitchen. “You looking for another hunt?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s been awhile.” Antonio shrugged, “But if there’s something nearby that doesn’t sound too difficult, I’ll probably pick it up.”

 

For some reason, those words surprised Lovino. How long had it been since Antonio was last on a hunt? Surely it couldn’t of been _that_ long, Antonio was one of the best in the business. Lovino hadn’t known about his kill count before he started living on the farm, but Antonio was willing to give him answers to whatever he asked. Compared to what Lovino knew of other hunters, he was _good_. He just wasn’t constantly boasting about wiping monsters and other supernatural beings off the planet within the community, so Lovino hadn’t even heard of him and had no knowledge of him being a hunter before they met. 

 

So he had to of gone on a hunt within the last few months, right? Lovino recalled the previous four months in his mind, but he came up empty. Antonio had been home nearly all of the time, except for the occasional trip to buy groceries or visit a friend, or a rare visit to morning mass. He was never gone for more than a day, and other than the previous night when he had gone out on his date, he was home every night. Come to think of it, Lovino couldn’t remember a time in the past year when Antonio was gone for an extended period of time, long enough for a hunt. Had he stopped once Lovino was living with him?

 

Sure, perhaps Lovino could blame it on Antonio’s apparent need to keep an eye on him, to make sure he didn’t try anything and escape. But Antonio’s sigils and solid were solid, or they had been until last night, and they would’ve kept Lovino on the farm in Antonio’s absence for at least a week or two. He could’ve easily gone on a hunt and been back before Lovino had enough time to form a weak spot in his defenses. 

 

The last thing Lovino remembered Antonio even raising a weapon to had been a rabid coyote that had wandered onto his property and tried to attack Estrella. He didn’t even like doing it, was only shooting it because it was sick and it was a threat to his dog. Later on, after way too many glasses of wine and a lot of guilt, he told Lovino that he never liked killing animals, that it made him feel awful. He had said that his father used to take him and his older brother out to hunt deer and that his hands would always shake before he pulled the trigger, he didn’t know what was wrong with him. A few tears had slipped out of his eyes then, but Lovino had pretended not to see them because he was also a little drunk and he softened up when he was full of good wine. 

 

Lovino had known then that the and his brother weren’t a sick, skinny coyote, but watching Antonio hesitate as he tried to kill it, and then finally put the poor thing out of its misery with a clean, painless shot through the head had put things in a strange perspective for him. He didn’t like that viewpoint at the time, so afterwards he shoved the memory of the whole event in the back of his mind until now. 

 

Sometimes it was so hard to see Antonio as the killer, the murderer that Lovino logically knew that he was. He had been kind, patient, and gentle with Lovino, had loved him and even if it was all a huge elaborate lie, there had been _something_ real there. He really doubted that Antonio could’ve convinced him that he was in love with him if there hadn’t been some sort of feeling there. Even if it wasn’t the true, deep, passionate love that Lovino had believed they possessed, Antonio had at least cared about him a little bit, right up to betraying him. He wouldn’t of taken Lovino’s deal if he didn’t.

 

“I’m tired,” Antonio yawned, walking out of the kitchen, “Goodnight.”

 

“Night.” Lovino replied, realizing that was the last goodnight he would hear from Antonio, the last time he would respond to. Why wasn’t he overjoyed about that? 

 

He watched Antonio leave the kitchen and listened to him walk up the stairs and softly shut his bedroom door, presumably going to sleep. He had left the box of ashes on the table, and Lovino was almost tempted to mess with it, but the memory of the demon left him wanting to get away from it as soon as possible. 

 

A few moments later, he followed Antonio upstairs, their paths differing once Lovino headed towards his own bedroom. Estrella was right beside him and trailed into his room after him, hopping up onto his bed and curling up for bed. However, Lovino still had several hours of sleep powering his body.

 

He decided to pack up what little he would be taking with him tomorrow. It wasn’t like he had much that was important to him here, his grimoires were with Feliciano along with any other magical items of value. He didn’t have any charms to take with him because he couldn’t make any while he was here. He ended up throwing a couple sets of clothes, his second pair of boots, a but of money he had, and a book he was in the middle of into a backpack before making a list of what he herbs and materials he needed to pick up at some point. He finished the list with _cigaretttes_ because good god, was he craving one.

 

Finally he let himself lie down next to Estrella, who had been restless without the pressure of a human in bed near her. Lovino found that he must’ve been more tired than he originally thought, because as soon as he had snuggled down into the blankets, he found his eyes closing of their own accord with no regard to whether he was alright with that and no fear of demons. Exhausted, Lovino allowed it and fell into a dreamless slumber, one of his hands buried in Estrella’s hair.

 

~

 

Lovino awoke in the early morning, feeling well rested for the first time in months. Estrella was no longer beside him, but Lovino could smell breakfast cooking downstairs, so he could make a pretty informed decision that she was begging Antonio for a piece of bacon. 

 

He slid out of bed and dressed, this time checking his wounds before he went downstairs. The bruises had darkened, but Lovino knew that they were bound to get worse before they got better, so he wasn’t too worried. He pulled on his normal attire of all black and boots before coming down the stairs.

 

Excitement was thrumming through his veins now that it was real, now that he knew for sure that he was _actually_ leaving, that he was going to find his family. He had to deal with the whole demon thing, but that could be set aside for a moment. He had his magic back, and he was going to be able to start doing what he loved most again around the people he had the deepest connection with. 

 

As he walked into the kitchen, it was difficult for Lovino to believe that he had disintegrated a demon in here just two nights ago. The only proof that it was true were the sewn up gashes in his side, everything else had been cleaned up. The room looked just like it did before the attack, and Lovino was immensely glad he took the chance of pissing Antonio off and used his magic to clean up the glass. That would’ve been such a bitch. 

 

Lovino prediction about Estrella was correct, the dog is sitting on the floor beside him and is on high alert, begging for a piece of bacon. Antonio is doing his best to ignore her. The begging hadn’t started until Lovino began living here and started giving her little bits of his meals. It was a tiny way to get back at Antonio and Lovino knew that once started, the bad habit would never stop. 

 

Estrella glanced at Lovino, knowing that he would share with her, but seeing that he had no food, she turned her attention back to Antonio in vain. Lovino felt a little bad for her, who would feed the dog table scraps when he was gone?

 

Lovino shifted his attention from Estrella to Antonio, who hadn’t yet said anything to him yet, which was a little strange. He almost always received a _‘good morning, Lovi’_ when they saw each other in the morning. Today he seemed tense, maybe a little distracted. Like he had something on his mind. Lovino supposed that for the circumstances, it was pretty normal, he was releasing what he thought to be a dangerous witch upon the world. Not like he had much choice in the matter, but still.

 

“You should let me take the dog.” Lovino said, if only to break the silence and the strange trance Antonio was in. 

 

It seemed to to the trick, because a small smile formed on his lips. “She’d probably rather be with you, but then I’d be lonely.”

 

He finished cooking and then handed Lovino a plate piled with eggs, bacon, and toast. They sat down to eat in relative quiet, Estrella choosing to take up her post at Lovino’s side. He fed her small bites of bread and bacon, looking at the warded box that was still on the table from last night. 

 

Lovino pointed at it with his fork. “When are you taking that to Francis?”

 

Antonio glanced up at him, as if Lovino had surprised him. There was a moment of silence, and then his expression melted into seriousness. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

 

“…Uh huh?” Lovino asked, wariness creeping into his veins. Antonio had just said last night he didn’t want Lovino to take the ashes to Francis.

 

“I have a proposition to make to you.” 

 

Lovino felt like his brain had just short-circuited, been repaired, and turned back on in a matter of three seconds. Probably because he was experiences a wave of about one hundred different emotions that could only be expressed by one phrase:

 

_Oh hell no._

 

“No, the fuck you most certainly do _not_.” Lovino replied, dropping his fork and letting it clatter back onto his plate.

 

“Lovino, just hear me out-“

 

“You know what I learned about making deals with you?” Lovino interrupted, “That it is the worst fucking thing ever, and I’m not going to do it again.”

 

“It’s not really a deal.” Antonio tried to reason, “Francis and Arthur are in the same place, and we both have business with them, so it makes sense that we go together.”

 

“Makes _sense_? Do you think I’m stupid?” Lovino questioned, rising out of his chair. Estrella was completely unaffected, having watched her strange, pseudo-divorced parents argue time and time again. 

 

“No, Lovino, of course I don’t think that-“

 

“Then what on God’s green earth made you believe you could convince me to just go with you when you’ve done nothing but betray me-“

 

This time, it was Antonio’s turn to interrupt Lovino. “How are you going to get there, Lovino? Have you thought that through?”

 

Lovino fell quiet, because even though he had thought about it, he doubted that his argument would be viewed as smart by Antonio. He had planned on hitching a ride to the nearest city, which was Montague, and buying enough herbs and other items to make a few good charms, get in contact with his old clients and ask for the favor of transportation to Portland, where Arthur and Francis were located. 

 

But then again, Antonio was suggesting he go with _him,_ who had lied to him for over a year about who he was and what their relationship meant, had almost killed him, and then had kept him trapped on this farm without power. So why should’ve Lovino trust him anymore than some stranger?

 

“I will figure it out.” Lovino growled, “But you are not going to be involved in me finding my family and figuring out this demon shit. This. Ends. Now.”

 

With that, Lovino shoved his plate away and stormed out of the kitchen. He heard Antonio calling, but his words fell on deaf ears and as Lovino pounded up the stairs and into his room. 

 

He felt frantic, frayed at the fringes, suffocated, nothing like the excited optimism he had been filled with earlier in the morning. Lovino told himself that he really should’ve known better, because good things didn’t happen to him. He should’ve left in the middle of the night, as soon as he got done packing. He should’ve not focused on sentimentality, should’ve walked out of the door with no feelings.

 

Now he had given Antonio enough time to think and formulate a plan. Sure, Antonio really couldn’t keep him here, Lovino was back at magical capacity and strong enough to leave even if Antonio resisted, but he really didn’t want to fight. Not when he needed to preserve his strength, not when he had zero clue where his brother was and had to somehow find him. Hurting a hunter would only draw attention to Lovino and make more trouble for him. 

 

The longer he stayed here, the worse. Lovino picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, not even sparing his room a second glance as he paced out of it. He was almost blind, seeing red, and was distracted enough that he almost ran into Antonio at the bottom of the stairs, blocking his way. 

 

“Lovino, please listen to me,” Antonio pleaded, “Let me help you.”

 

Lovino stared at him, incredulous, furious. His emerald eyes were wide, full of understanding and sympathy that had _no_ right to be there, because Lovino knew it was all fucking fake. All of this was fake and to think, he had almost fallen for it.

 

His survival instincts had really gone to shit since he met Antonio.

 

“Move,” Lovino hissed, “Or I will move you.”

 

He was taller than Antonio like this, two steps above the bottom of the staircase. Lovino glared at him, watching him go through his options, hesitate. Just before Lovino was about enough force to put him through the wall to clear the path, Antonio stepped aside.

 

Not taking is eyes off the hunter until he was at the front door, Lovino walked to the front door, feeling energy sparking in his fingertips, defensive. His magic recognized Antonio as a threat, one it would eliminate if necessary. Lovino decided to trust it. 

 

He turned the door knob, opened the door, stepped one foot outside.

 

“Lovino.”

 

Lovino turned is head to see Antonio standing there, looking desperate, sounding like he was _begging_. A tiny, ever-present part of him wanted to believe that Antonio had somehow gained the humanity to want to help him, but the rest of Lovino wasn’t nearly that stupid. 

 

He opened his mouth, just a little bit, thinking about saying something spiteful or angry, but then closed it. If Antonio was as sorry as he looked (which was unlikely) then he could live with it. He stepped outside of the house and slammed the door behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for such long periods of time between updates! College is murdering me rn :)
> 
> Thank you for all the kind words about the last chapter, I love hearing everything you guys have to say. Let me know what you think! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think :)


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